FRANK ON THE 
 PRAIRIE 
 
 lUT A l^TTOJ*" 4*^ A fcVT^T ir?- JIX J'^llWT 
 
 HARRY GAS1 LE/WON
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 LOS ANGELES

 
 FRANK 
 ON THE PRAIRIE 
 
 BY 
 
 HARRY CASTLEMON 
 
 AUTHOR OF "FRANK ON A GUNBOAT," "FRANK BEFORE 
 VICKSBURG," "FRANK IN THE WOODS," ETC., ETC. 
 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 HURST & COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS
 
 PZ 
 7 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 I. Ho for the West 5 
 
 II. The Wagon Train . . . ... 15 
 
 III. Antelope Hunting 28 
 
 IV. 1 he Best Trapper on the Prairie 37 
 
 V. A Fight with the Indians 60 
 
 VI. Lost on the Prairie 79 
 
 VII. The Trapper's Reminiscence 92 
 
 VIII. The " Ole Bar's Hole " 114 
 
 IX. Archie's Adventure with a Grizzly 127 
 
 X. Hanging a Bear 139 
 
 XL A Buffalo Hunt 151 
 
 XII. A Night Among the Wolves 166 
 
 XIII. Frank's New Acquaintances 178 
 
 XIV. The Trader's Expedition 195 
 
 XV. The Outlaw's Escape 209 
 
 XVI. The King of the Drove 226 
 
 XVII. How the Trapper got his Horse 239 
 
 XVIII. Old Bob's Adventure 254 
 
 XIX. Homeward Bound 271 
 
 3
 
 FKANK ON THE PEAIKIE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. , 
 
 HO FOR THE WEST! 
 
 FOR two months after their return from 
 their hunting expedition in " the woods,'"' 
 Frank and Archie talked of nothing but the 
 incidents that had transpired during their 
 visit at the trapper's cabin. The particulars 
 of Frank's desperate fight with the moose had 
 become known throughout the village, and the 
 " Young Naturalist " enjoyed an enviable 
 reputation as a hunter. He was obliged to 
 relate his adventures over and over again, un- 
 til one day his thoughts and conversation were 
 
 5
 
 6 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 turned into a new channel by the arrival of an 
 uncle, who had just returned from California. 
 
 Uncle James had been absent from home 
 nearly ten years, and during most of that time 
 had lived in the mines. Although the boys had 
 not seen him since they were six years old, and 
 of course could not remember him, they were 
 soon on the best of terms with each other. 
 Uncle James had an inexhaustible fund of 
 stories; he had crossed the plains, fought the 
 Indians, was accustomed to scenes of danger 
 and excitement, and had such an easy way of 
 telling his adventures, that the boys never 
 grew tired of listening to them. The day after 
 his arrival he visited the museum, gazed in 
 genuine wonder at the numerous specimens of 
 his nephews' handiwork, and listened to the 
 descriptions of their hunting expeditions with 
 as much interest as though he had been a boy 
 himself. Then he engaged in hunting with 
 them, and entered into the sport with all the 
 reckless eagerness of youth. 
 
 The winter was passed in this way, and
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 7 
 
 when spring returned, Uncle James began to 
 talk of returning to California to settle up his 
 business. He had become attached to life in 
 the mines, but could not bear the thought of 
 leaving his relatives again. The quiet com- 
 forts he had enjoyed at the cottage he thought 
 were better than the rough life and hard fare 
 to which he had been accustomed for the last 
 ten years. He had left his business, however, 
 in an unsettled state, and, as soon as he could 
 " close it up," would return and take up his 
 abode in Lawrence. The cousins regretted 
 that the parting time was so near, for they 
 looked upon their relative as the very pattern 
 of an uncle, but consoled themselves by look- 
 ing forward to the coming winter, when he 
 would be settled as a permanent inmate of the 
 cottage. 
 
 " I say, Frank," exclaimed Archie one day, 
 as he burst into the study, where his cousin 
 was engaged in cleaning his gun preparatory 
 to a muskrat hunt, " there's something in the 
 wind. Just now, as I came through the sit-
 
 8 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 ting-room, I surprised our folks and Uncle 
 James talking very earnestly about something. 
 But they stopped as soon as I came in, and, as 
 that was a gentle hint that they didn't want 
 me to know anything about it, I came out. 
 There's something up, I tell you." 
 
 " It's about uncle's business, I suppose," re- 
 plied Frank. But if that teas the subject of 
 the conversation, Archie came to the conclu- 
 sion that his affairs must be in a very unset- 
 tled state, for when they returned from their 
 hunt that night the same mysterious conversa- 
 tion was going on again. It ceased, however, 
 as the boys entered the room, which made 
 Archie more firm in his belief than ever that 
 there was " something up." 
 
 The next morning, at the breakfast-table, 
 Archie's father announced his intention of re- 
 turning to Portland at once, as his business 
 needed his attention ; and, turning to the boys, 
 inquired: 
 
 " Well, have you had hunting enough this 
 winter to satisfy you?"
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 9 
 
 " Yes, sir," was the answer. 
 
 " Then I suppose you don't want to go across 
 the plains with your Uncle James? " 
 
 " Hurrah ! " shouted Archie, springing to his 
 feet, and upsetting his coffee-cup. " Did you 
 say we mi gist go?" 
 
 " Be a little more careful, Archie," said his 
 father. " No, I did not say so." 
 
 " Well, it amounts to the same thing," 
 thought Archie, " for father never would have 
 said a word about it if he wasn't intending to 
 let us go. I knew there was something up." 
 
 We need not stop to repeat the conversation 
 that followed. Suffice it to say, that Uncle 
 James, having fully made up his mind to re- 
 turn to the village as soon as he could settle 
 up his business, had asked permission for his 
 nephews to accompany him across the plains. 
 Their parents, thinking of the fight with the 
 moose, and knowing the reckless spirit of the 
 boys, had at first objected. But Uncle James, 
 
 promising to keep a watchful eye on them, had, 
 
 f 
 after considerable argument, carried the day,
 
 io Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 and it was finally decided that the boys could 
 go. 
 
 " But remember," said Mr. Winters, " you 
 are to be governed entirely by Uncle James; 
 for, if you have no one to take care of you, 
 you will be in more fights with bears and 
 panthers." 
 
 The boys readily promised obedience, and, 
 hardly waiting to finish their breakfast, went 
 into the study to talk over their plans. 
 
 " Didn't I tell you there was something 
 up? " said Archie, as soon as they had closed 
 the door. " We'll have a hunt now that will 
 throw all our former hunting expeditions in 
 the shade." 
 
 As soon as their excitement had somewhat 
 abated, they remembered that Dick Lewis, the 
 trapper, had told them that it was his inten- 
 tion to start for the prairie in the spring. If 
 he had not already gone, would it not be a 
 good plan to secure his company? He knew 
 all about the prairie, and might be of service 
 to them. They laid the matter before Uncle
 
 Frank on the Prairie. n 
 
 James, who, without hesitation, pronounced it 
 an excellent idea. " For," said he, " we are in 
 no hurry. Instead of going by stage, we will 
 buy a wagon and a span of mules and take our 
 time. If we don't happen to fall in with a 
 train, we shall, no doubt, want a guide." As 
 soon, therefore, as the ice had left the creek so 
 that it could be traveled with a boat, Uncle 
 James accompanied the boys to the trapper's 
 cabin. 
 
 Dick met them at the door, and greeted 
 them with a grasp so hearty, that they all felt 
 its effects for a quarter of an hour afterward. 
 
 "I ain't gone yet," said he; "but it won't 
 be long afore I see the prairy onct more." 
 
 " Well, Dick," said Frank, " we're going, 
 too, and want you to go with us." 
 
 The trapper and his brother opened their 
 eyes wide with astonishment, but Uncle 
 James explained, and ended by offering to pay 
 the trapper's expenses if he would accompany 
 them. After a few moments' consideration, he 
 accepted the proposition, saying:
 
 12 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 "I have tuk to the youngsters mightily. 
 They're gritty fellers, an' I should like to show 
 'em a bit of prairy life." 
 
 Uncle James and the boys remained at the 
 cabin nearly a week, during which their plans 
 were all determined upon, and, when they ar- 
 rived at home, they at once commenced prepa- 
 rations for their journey. Their double-bar- 
 reled shot-guns were oiled, and put carefully 
 away. They were very efficient weapons 
 among small game, but Uncle James said they 
 were not in the habit of using " pop-guns '' on 
 the prairie; they would purchase their fire- 
 jinns and other necessary weapons at St. Louis. 
 
 The first of June the time set for the start 
 at length arrived, and with it came the trap- 
 per, accompanied by his dog. Dick carried 
 his long rifle on his shoulder, his powder-horn 
 and bullet-pouch at his side, and a knapsack, 
 containing a change of clothes and other neces- 
 sary articles, at his back. He had evidently 
 bestowed more than usual care upon his toilet; 
 his suit of buckskin was entirely new, and even
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 13 
 
 his rifle seemed to have received a thorough 
 rubbing and cleaning preparatory to its in- 
 troduction into civilized life. Frank and Ar- 
 chie meeting him at the door, relieved him of 
 his rifle and pack, and conducted him into the 
 house. But here the trapper was sadly out of 
 place. lie sat on the edge of his chair, and was 
 constantly changing the position of his feet, 
 and looking down at the rich carpet, as if he 
 could hardly believe that it was made to walk 
 upon. The inmates of the cottage used every 
 exertion in their power to make him feel at his 
 ease; and, to some extent, succeeded; but he 
 breathed much more freely when the farewells 
 had been said, and the party was on its way to 
 the wharf. In due time they arrived at Port- 
 land, where they remained nearly a week. 
 Here the trapper again found himself in hot 
 water. He was installed in a large, airy room 
 in Mr. Winter's elegant residence; but he 
 would much rather have been assigned quar- 
 ters among the. trees in the yard. The sights 
 and sounds of the city were new to him, and at
 
 14 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 every corner he found something to wonder at. 
 When on the street, he was continually get- 
 ting in somebody's way, or being separated 
 from his companions, who found it necessary 
 to keep a vigilant watch over him. But it was 
 on the train that his astonishment reached its 
 height. He had never before traveled in the 
 cars, and, as they thundered away, going faster 
 and faster as they left the city behind, the 
 trapper began to clutch his seat, and to look 
 wistfully out the window at the woods, which 
 appeared to be dancing by, as if he never ex- 
 pected to be permitted to enter his natural 
 element again. He would have preferred to 
 " foot it," as he remarked, and, when at last 
 they reached St. Joseph, he drew a long breath 
 of relief, mentally resolving that he would 
 never again tempt destruction by traveling 
 either on a steamboat or railroad car. 
 
 It was midnight when they reached the 
 hotel. Being very much fatigued with their 
 long journey, they at once secured rooms and 
 retired, and were soon fast asleep.
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 15 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE WAGON TRAIN. 
 
 ON awaking the next morning, the boys 
 found themselves surrounded by new scenes. 
 While they were dressing, they looked out at 
 the window, and obtained their first view of a 
 wagon train, which was just starting out for 
 the prairie. The wagons were protected by 
 canvas covers, some drawn by oxen, others by 
 mules, and the entire train being accompanied 
 by men both on foot and on horseback. Fat, 
 sleek cows followed meekly after the wagons, 
 from behind whose covering peeped the faces of 
 women and children the families of the 
 hardy pioneers now on their way to find new 
 homes amid the solitude of that western 
 region.
 
 1 6 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 The boys watched the train until it disap- 
 peared, and then went down stairs to get their 
 breakfast. Uncle James was not to be found. 
 In fact, ever since leaving Portland, he seemed 
 to have forgotten his promise to his brother, 
 for he never bothered his head about his 
 nephews. It is true, he had watched them 
 rather closely at the beginning of the journey, 
 but soon discovered that they were fully capa- 
 ble of taking care of themselves and the trap- 
 per besides. He did not make his appearance 
 until nearly two hours after the boys had 
 finished their breakfast, and then he rode up 
 to the hotel mounted on a large, raw-boned, 
 ugly-looking horse. He was followed by the 
 trapper, who was seated in a covered wagon, 
 drawn by a span of mules, while behind the 
 wagon were two more horses, saddled and 
 bridled. 
 
 " Now, then, boys," said Uncle James, as he 
 dismounted and tied his horse to a post, 
 " where's your baggage? We're going with 
 that train that went out this morning."
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 17 
 
 " An' here, youngsters," exclaimed Dick, as 
 he climbed down out of his wagon, " come an' 
 take your pick of these two bosses. This one," 
 he continued, pointing to a small, gray horse, 
 which stood impatiently pawing the ground 
 and tossing his head " this feller is young 
 and foolish yet. He don't know nothin' 'bout 
 the prairy or buffaler huntin'; an' if whoever 
 gets him should undertake to shoot a rifle 
 while on his back, he would land him on the 
 ground quicker nor lightnin'. I 'spect I shall 
 have to larn him a few lessons. But this 
 one " laying his hand on the other horse, 
 which stood with his head down and his eyes 
 closed, as if almost asleep " he's an ole buf- 
 faler hunter. The feller that your uncle 
 bought him of has jest come in from the moun- 
 tains. He can travel wusser nor a steamboat 
 if you want him to, an' you can leave him 
 on the prairy any whar an' find him when 
 you come back. Now, youngster," he 
 added, turning to Frank, " which '11 you 
 have? "
 
 i8 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 1 " I have no choice," replied Frank. " Which 
 one do you want, Archie? " 
 
 " Well," replied the latter, " I'd rather have 
 the buffalo hunter. He looks as though he 
 hadn't spirit enough to throw a fellow off, but 
 that gray looks rather vicious." 
 
 "Wai, then, that's settled," said the trap- 
 per ; " so fetch on your plunder, an' let's be 
 movin' to onct." 
 
 Their baggage, which consisted of three 
 trunks small, handy affairs, capable of hold- 
 ing a considerable quantity of clothing, but 
 not requiring much space was stowed away 
 in the wagon. When Uncle James had paid 
 their bill at the hotel, they mounted their 
 horses, and the trapper, who now began to feel 
 more at home, took his seat in the wagon, and 
 drove after the train. Archie soon began to 
 think that he had shown considerable judg- 
 ment in the selection of his horse, for they had 
 not gone far before the gray began to show his 
 temper. After making several attempts to 
 turn his head toward home a proceeding
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 19 
 
 which Frank successfully resisted he began 
 to dance from one side of the street to the 
 other, and ended by endeavoring to throw his 
 rider over his head; but the huge Spanish 
 saddle, with its high front and back, afforded 
 him a secure seat; and after receiving a few 
 sharp thrusts from Frank's spurs, the gray 
 quietly took his place by the side of Archie's 
 horse, and walked along as orderly and gentle 
 as could be wished. 
 
 The trapper, who was now the chief man of 
 the party, had superintended the buying of 
 their outfit, and, although it was a simple one, 
 they were still well provided with every neces- 
 sary article. The boys were dressed in com- 
 plete suits of blue jeans, an article that will 
 resist wear and dirt to the last extremity, 
 broad-brimmed hats, and heavy horseman's 
 boots, the heels of which were armed with 
 spurs. 
 
 Their weapons, which were stowed away in ' 
 the wagon, consisted of a brace of revolvers 
 and a hunting-knife each, and Archie owned
 
 20 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 a short breech-loading rifle, while Frank had 
 purchased a common " patch " rifle. The 
 wagon also contained provisions in abundance 
 coffee, corn meal, bacon, and the like and 
 ammunition for their weapons. Their appear- 
 ance would have created quite a commotion in 
 the quiet little village of Lawrence, but in St. 
 Joseph such sights were by no means uncom- 
 mon. Buckskin was much more plenty than 
 broadcloth, and the people who passed them 
 on the streets scarcely noticed them. 
 
 At length, just before dark, they overtook 
 the train, which had stopped for the night. 
 The wagons were drawn up on each side of the 
 road, and altogether the camp presented a 
 scene that was a pleasant one to men wearied 
 with their day's journey. Cattle were feeding 
 qnirily near the wagons, chickens cackled joy- 
 ously from their coops, men and women were 
 busily engaged with their preparations for sup- 
 per, while groups of noisy children rolled 
 about on the grass, filling the camp with the 
 sounds of their merry laughter.
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 21 
 
 The trapper drove on until he found a spot 
 suitable for their camp, and then turned off 
 the road and stopped. He at once began to 
 unharness the mules, while the boys, after re- 
 moving their saddles, fastened their horses to 
 the wagon with a long rope, and allowed them 
 to graze. When the trapper had taken care of 
 Ms mules, he started a fire, and soon a coffee- 
 pot was simmering and sputtering over the 
 flames, and several slices of bacon were broil- 
 ing on the coals. After supper, the boys 
 spread their blankets out under the wagon, 
 and, being weary with their day's ride (for it 
 was something new to them), soon fell asleep. 
 
 The next morning, when they awoke it was 
 just daylight. After drawing on their boots, 
 they crawled out from under the wagon, and 
 found the trapper, standing with his hat off, 
 and his long arms extended as if about to em- 
 brace some invisible object. 
 
 " I tell you what, youngsters," said he, as 
 the boys approached ; " if this ain't nat'ral ; 
 jest take a sniff of that ar fresh air! Here,"
 
 22 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 be continued, looking about him with a smile 
 of satisfaction " here, I know all 'bout 
 things. I'm to hum now. Thar's nothin' on 
 the prairy that Dick Lewis can't 'count fur. 
 But, youngsters, I wouldn't travel on them ar 
 steamboats an' railroads ag'in fur all the 
 beaver in the Missouri River. Everything in 
 them big cities seemed to say to me, ' Dick, 
 you hain't got no business here.' Them black 
 walls an' stone roads; them rumblin' carts an' 
 big stores, war sights I never seed afore, an' 
 J never want to see 'em ag'in. I know I was 
 treated mighty kind, an' all that;* but it 
 couldn't make me feel right. I didn't like 
 them streets, windin' an' twistin' about, an' 
 allers loosin' a feller; an' I wasn't to hum. 
 But now, youngsters, I know what I'm doin'. 
 Nobody can't lose Dick Lewis on the prairy. 
 I know the names of all the streets here; an', 
 'sides, I know whar they all lead to. An' as 
 fur varmints, thar's none of 'em that I hain't 
 trapped an' fit. An' Injuns! I know a leetle 
 'bout them, I reckon. It's funny that them ar
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 23 
 
 city chaps don't know nothin' 'bout what's 
 goin' on out here; an' it shows that all the 
 larnin' in the world ain't got out o' books. 
 Send one of 'em here, an' I could show him a 
 thing or two he never heern tell on. But I 
 must be gettin' breakfast, 'cause we'll be off 
 ag'in soon; an' on the prairy every feller has 
 to look out fur himself. You can't pull a ring 
 in the wall here, an' have a chap with white 
 huntiu' shirt an' morocker moccasins on come 
 up an' say: 'Did you ring, sir?' An' how 
 them ar fellers knowed which room to come to 
 in them big hotels, is something I can't get 
 through my head. Thar's no big bell to call 
 ft feller to grub here. Take one of them city 
 chaps an' give him a rifle, an' pint out over the 
 prairy an' tell him to go an' hunt up his break- 
 fast, an' how would he come out? Could he 
 travel by the sun, or tell the pints of the com- 
 pass by the stars? Could he lasso an' ride a 
 wild mustang, or shoot a Injun plumb atween 
 the eyes at two hundred an' fifty yards? No! 
 I reckon not! Wai, thar's a heap o' things I
 
 24 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 couldn't do; an' it shows that every man had 
 oughter stick to his own business. It's all 
 owin' to a man's bringin' up." 
 
 While the trapper spoke he had been raking 
 together the fire that had nearly gone out; 
 and having got it fairly ^started, he began the 
 work of getting breakfast. The boys, after 
 rolling up their blankets and packing them 
 away in the wagon, amused themselves in 
 watching the movements of the emigrants, 
 who now began their preparations for their 
 day's journey. By the time Uncle James 
 awoke, the trapper pronounced their breakfast 
 ready. After they had done ample justice to 
 the homely meal (and it was astonishing what 
 an appetite the fresh invigorating air of the 
 prairie gave them), the boys packed the cook- 
 ing utensils away in the wagon while the 
 trapper began to harness the mules. This was 
 an undertaking that a less experienced man 
 would have found to be extremely hazardous, 
 for the animals persisted in keeping their
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 25 
 
 heels toward him, and it was only by skilful 
 maneuvering that Dick succeeded in getting 
 them hitched to the wagon. By the time this 
 was accomplished, Uncle James and the boys 
 had saddled their horses and followed the 
 trapper, who drove off as though he perfectly 
 understood what he was about, leaving the 
 train to follow at its leisure. 
 
 Dick acted as if he had again found him- 
 self among friends from whom he had- long 
 been separated; but it was evident that sor- 
 row was mingled with joy, for on every side 
 his eye rested on the improvements of civiliza- 
 tion. The road was lined with fine, well- 
 stocked farms, and the prairie over which his 
 father had hunted the buffalo and fought the 
 Indian, had been turned up by the plow, and 
 would soon be covered with waving crops. No 
 doubt the trapper's thoughts wandered into 
 the future, for, as the boys rode up beside 
 the wagon, he said, with something like a 
 sigh: 
 
 " Things ain't as they used to be, young-
 
 26 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 sters. I can 'member the time when thar 
 wasn't a fence within miles of here, an' a fel- 
 ler could go out an' knock over a buffaler fur 
 breakfast jest as easy as that farmer over thar 
 could find one of his sheep. But the ax an' 
 plow have made bad work with a fine country, 
 the buffaler an' Injun have been pushed back 
 t'wards the mountains, an' it won't be long 
 afore thar'll be no room fur sich as me; an' 
 we won't be missed neither, 'cause when the 
 buffaler an' beaver are gone thar'll be nothin' 
 fur us to do. These farms will keep pushin' 
 out all the while; an' when folks, sittin' in 
 their snug houses beside their warm fires, hear 
 tell of the Injuns that onct owned this country, 
 nobody will ever think that sich fellers as me 
 an' Bill Lawson an' ole Bob Kelly ever lived. 
 If ole Bill was here now, he would say: ' Let's 
 go back to the mountains, Dick, an' stay thar.' 
 He wouldn't like to see his ole huntin' grounds 
 wasted in this way, an' I don't want to see it 
 neither. But I know that the Rocky Moun- 
 tains an' grizzly bars will last as long as I
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 27 
 
 shall, an' thar'll be no need of trappers an' 
 hunters an' guides arter that." 
 
 Dick became silent after this, and it was not 
 until the train halted for the noon's rest, that 
 he recovered his usual spirits.
 
 28 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ANTELOPE HUNTING. 
 
 GRADUALLY the train left the improvements 
 of civilization behind, and, at the end of three 
 weeks, it was miles outside of a fence. Here 
 the trapper was in his natural element. He 
 felt, as he expressed, " like a young one jest 
 out o' school," adding, that all he needed was 
 " one glimpse of a Comanche or Cheyenne to 
 make him feel perfectly nat'ral." 
 
 In accordance with the promise he had made 
 Frank before leaving St. Joseph, he now took 
 Pete (that was the name the latter had given 
 his horse) under his especial charge; and every 
 morning, at the first peep of day, the boys saw 
 liiin galloping over the prairie, firing his rifle 
 as fast as he could reload, as if in pursuit of
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 29 
 
 an imaginary herd of buffaloes. At first the 
 spirited animal objected to this mode of treat- 
 ment, and made the most desperate efforts to 
 unseat his rider; but the trapper, who had 
 broken more than one wild mustang, was per- 
 fectly at home on horseback, and, after a few 
 exercises of this kind, Pete was turned over 
 to his young master, with the assurance that 
 he was ready to begin buffalo hunting. Ac- 
 cording to Frank's idea, the animal had im- 
 proved considerably under the trapper's system 
 of training, for he would hardly wait for his 
 rider to be fairly in the saddle before he would 
 start off at the top of his speed. The boys, 
 who considered themselves fully able to do 
 anything that had ever been accomplished by 
 any one else, having seen Dick load and fire 
 his rifle while riding at full speed, began to 
 imitate his example, and in a short time 
 learned the art to perfection. In addition to 
 this, each boy looked upon his horse as the bet- 
 ter animal, and the emigrants were witnesses 
 to many a race between them, in which Sleepy
 
 3o Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 Sam, as Archie called his horse, always came 
 off winner. But Frank kept up the contest, 
 and at every possible opportunity the horses 
 were " matched," until they had learned their 
 parts so well, that every time they found 
 themselves together, they would start off on a 
 race without waiting for the word from their 
 riders. 
 
 One morning, just after the train had left 
 the camp, as the boys were riding beside the 
 wagon, listening to a story the trapper was re- 
 lating, the latter suddenly stopped, and, point- 
 ing toward a distant swell, said : " Do you see 
 that ar', youngsters? " 
 
 The boys, after straining their eyes in vain, 
 brought their field-glass into requisition, and 
 finally discovered an object moving slowly 
 along through the high grass; but the distance 
 was so great, they could not determine what it 
 was. 
 
 " That's a prong-horn," said the trapper at 
 length. An' now, Frank," he continued, " if 
 you'll lend me that ar hoss, I'll show you that
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 31 
 
 all the huntin' in the world ain't larnt in that 
 leetle patch of timber around Lawrence." 
 
 Frank at once dismounted, and Dick, after 
 securing his rifle, sprung into the saddle, say- 
 ing: 
 
 " Come along easy-like, youngsters, an* when 
 I tell you, you get off an' hide behind your 
 hoss." 
 
 Frank mounted Sleepy Sam behind Archie, 
 and they followed the trapper, who led the way 
 at an easy gallop. Useless, at his master's 
 command, remained with the wagon. They 
 rode for a mile at a steady pace, and then, see- 
 ing that the game had discovered them, the 
 boys, at a signal from the trapper, stopped and 
 dismounted, while Dick kept on alone, his 
 every movement closely watched by Frank and 
 Archie, who, having often read of the skill re- 
 quired in hunting antelopes, were anxious to 
 see how it was done. The trapper rode on for 
 about half a mile further, and then the boys 
 saw him dismount, unbuckle the bridle, and 
 hobble his horse so that he would not strav
 
 32 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 away. He then threw himself on his hands 
 and knees, and disappeared. A quarter of an 
 hour afterward the boys saw his 'coon-skin cap 
 waving above the grass. If this was intended 
 to attract the attention of the game, it did not 
 meet with immediate success, for the antelopes 
 continued to feed leisurely up the swell, and 
 finally some of their number disappeared be- 
 hind it. The boys regarded this as conclusive 
 evidence that the trapper's plan had failed; 
 but at length one of the antelopes, which stood 
 a little apart from the others, and appeared 
 to be acting as sentinel, uttered a loud snort, 
 which instantly brought every member of the 
 herd to his side. They remained huddled to- 
 gether for several moments, as if in consulta- 
 tion, and then began to move slowly down the 
 swell toward the place where the trapper was 
 concealed. There were about twenty animals 
 in the herd, and they came on in single file, 
 stopping now and then to snuff the air and 
 examine the object that had excited their 
 curiosity. But nothing suspicious was to be
 
 .Frank on the Prairie. 33 
 
 seen, for the trapper was concealed in the 
 grass, the only thing visible being his cap, 
 which he gently waved to and fro as he 
 watched the movements of the game. The an- 
 telopes advanced slowly much too slowly for 
 the impatient boys, who, concealed behind 
 their horse, closely watched all their move- 
 ments, fearful that they might detect the pres- 
 ence of the trapper, and seek safety in flight. 
 But the latter well understood the matter in 
 hand, and presently the boys saw a puff of 
 smoke rise from the grass, and the nearest of 
 the antelopes, springing into the air, fell dead 
 in his tracks. The others turned and fled with 
 the speed of the wind. 
 
 In an instant Frank and Archie had 
 mounted and when they reached the place 
 where the trapper was standing, he had 
 secured his prize, which was one of the most 
 graceful animals the boys had ever seen. It 
 was about three and a half feet high at the 
 shoulders, and, although Dick pronounced it 
 very fat, its body was slender and its limbs
 
 34 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 small and muscular. After having examined 
 the animal to their satisfaction, they all 
 mounted their horses, Dick carrying the game 
 before him on his saddle ; and as they rode to- 
 ward the wagon, Archie exclaimed : 
 
 " Now, Frank, we know how to hunt ante- 
 lopes. It isn't so very^iard, after all." 
 
 "Isn't it?" inquired the trapper, with a 
 laugh. " You don't understand the natur of 
 the critters, when you say that. I know I 
 killed this one easy but a feller can't allers do 
 it. Howsomever, you can try your hand the 
 next time we meet any, an' if you do shoot one, 
 I'll allers call you my ' antelope killers.' Them 
 red handkerchiefs of your'n would be jest the 
 things to use, 'cause the critters can see it a 
 long way. If you can bring one of 'em into 
 camp, it will be something wuth braggin' on." 
 
 It was evident that the trapper did not en- 
 tertain a very exalted opinion of the boys' 
 "hunting qualities;" but that did not con- 
 vince them that they could not shoot an ante- 
 lope. On the contrary, it made them all the
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 35 
 
 more anxious for an opportunity to try their 
 skill on the game, if for no other reason than 
 to show the trapper that he was mistaken. 
 
 Half an hour's riding brought them to the 
 wagon, which was standing where they had 
 left it, and, after the buck had been skinned 
 and cleaned, the trapper mounted to his seat 
 and drove after the train, followed by the boys, 
 who strained their eyes in every direction in 
 the hope of discovering another herd of ante- 
 lopes. But nothing in the shape of a prong- 
 horn was to be seen; and when the train re- 
 sumed its journey after its noon halt, they 
 gradually fell back until the wagons were out 
 of sight behind the hills. Then, leaving the 
 road, they galloped over the prairie until they 
 reached the top of a high swell, when they 
 stopped to look about them. About two miles 
 to the left was the train slowly winding among 
 the hills; but the most faithful use of their 
 glass failed to reveal the wished-for game. 
 All that afternoon they scoured the prairie on 
 both sides of the wagons, and when it began to
 
 36 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 grow dark, they reluctantly turned their faces 
 toward the camp. 
 
 "What did I tell you?" asked the trapper, 
 as the boys rode up to the wagon, where the 
 latter was unharnessing the mules. " I said 
 you couldn't shoot a prong-horn." 
 
 " Of course we couldn't,*' answered Archie, 
 " for we didn't see any to shoot." 
 
 " I know that," replied the trapper with a 
 grin ; " but 7 seed plenty. The next time you 
 go a huntin' prong-horns, be sartin that the 
 Avind blows from them t'wards you, an' not 
 from you t'wards them. They've got sharp 
 noses, them critters haye." 
 
 The boys were astonished. They had not 
 thought of that ; and Archie was compelled to 
 acknowledge that " there was something in 
 knowing how, after all."
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 37 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE BEST TRAPPER ON THE PRAIRIE. 
 
 THAT night the train encamped a short dis- 
 tance from one of the stations of the Overland 
 Stnge Company. The trapper, as usual, after 
 taking care of his mules, superintended the 
 preparations for supper, while the boys, 
 wearied with their day's ride, threw themselves 
 on the grass near the wagon, and watched his 
 movements with a hungry eye. Uncle James, 
 as he had done almost every night since leav- 
 ing St. Joseph, walked about the camp play- 
 ing with the children, who began to regard 
 him as an old acquaintance. Presently the at- 
 tention of the boys was attracted by the ap- 
 proach of a stranger, whose long beard and 
 thin hair both as white as snow bore evi-
 
 38 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 dence to the fact that he carried the burden of 
 many years on his shoulders. 
 
 He was dressed in a complete suit of buck- 
 skin, which, although well worn, was neverthe- 
 less very neat, and, in spite of his years, his 
 step was firm, and he walked as erect as an 
 Indian. He carried a long heavy rifle on his 
 shoulder, and from his belt peeped the head 
 of a small hatchet of peculiar shape, and the 
 buck-horn handle of a hunting-knife. He 
 walked slowly through the camp, and when he 
 came opposite the boys, Dick suddenly sprang 
 from the ground where he had been seated, 
 watching some steaks that were broiling on the 
 coals, and, striding up to the stranger, laid his 
 hand on his shoulder. The latter turned, and, 
 after regarding him sharply for a moment, 
 thrust out his hand, which the trapper seized 
 and wrung in silence. For an instant they 
 stood looking at each other without speaking, 
 and then Dick took the old man by the arm 
 and led him up to the fire, exclaiming :
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 39 
 
 " Bob Kelly, the oldest an' best trapper on 
 the prairy ! " 
 
 The boys arose as he approached, and re- 
 garded him with curiosity. They had heard 
 their guide speak in the highest terms of " ole 
 Bob Kelly," and had often wished to see the 
 trapper whom Dick was willing to acknowl- 
 edge as his superior. There he was a mild, 
 good-natured-looking old man, the exact op- 
 posite of what they had imagined him to be. 
 
 " Them are city chaps, Bob " continued the 
 trapper, as the old man, after gazing at the 
 boys for a moment, seated himself on the 
 ground beside the fire " an' I'm takin' 'em 
 out to Californy. In course they are green 
 consarnin' prairy life, but they are made of 
 good stuff, an' are 'bout the keerlessest young- 
 sters you ever -see. What a doin' here, Bob? " 
 
 " Jest lookin' round," was the answer. 
 " I'm mighty glad to meet you ag'in, 'cause it 
 looks nat'ral to see you 'bout. Things ain't as 
 they used to be. Me an' you are 'bout the 
 oldest trappers agoin' now. The boys have
 
 4O Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 gone one arter the other, an' thar's only me 
 an' you left that I knows on." 
 
 " What's come on Jack Thomas? " asked 
 Dick. 
 
 " We're both without our chums now," an- 
 swered the old man, sorrowfully. "Jack an' 
 ole Bill Lawson are both gone, an' their 
 scalps are in a Comanche wigwam." 
 
 The trapper made no reply, but went on with 
 his preparations for supper in silence, and the 
 boys could see that he was considerably af- 
 fected by the news he had just heard. His 
 every movement was closely watched by his 
 companion, who seemed delighted to meet his 
 old acquaintance once more, and acted as 
 though he did not wish to allow him out of his 
 sight. There was evidently a good deal of 
 honest affection between these two men. It 
 did not take the form of words, but would have 
 showed itself had one or the other of them been 
 in danger. They did not speak again until Mr. 
 Winters came up, when Dick again introduced 
 his friend as the " oldest an' best trapper
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 41 
 
 agoin'." Uncle James, who understood the 
 customs of the trappers, simply , bowed a 
 greeting which the old man returned with one 
 short, searching glance, as if he meant to read 
 his very thoughts. 
 
 " Now, then ! " exclaimed Dick, " Grub's 
 ready. Pitch in, Bob." 
 
 The old trapper was not in the habit of 
 standing upon ceremony, and, drawing his 
 huge knife from his belt, he helped himself to 
 a generous piece of the meat, and, declined the 
 corn-bread and the cup of coffee which the 
 boys passed over to him, made his meal en- 
 tirely of venison. After supper there were 
 but few dishes to wash now, for the boys had 
 learned to go on the principle that " fingers 
 were made before forks " the trapper hung 
 what remained of the venison in the wagon, 
 lighted his pipe, and stretched himself on the 
 ground beside his companion. 
 
 The boys, knowing that the trappers would 
 be certain to talk over the events that had 
 transpired since their last meeting, spread
 
 42 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 their blankets where they could hear all that 
 passed, and waited impatiently for them to 
 begin; while Mr. Winters, who had by this 
 time become acquainted with every man, 
 woman, and child, in the train, started to pay 
 a visit to the occupants of a neighboring 
 wagon. 
 
 For some moments the two men smoked in 
 silence, old Bob evidently occupied with his 
 own thoughts, and Dick patiently waiting for 
 him to speak. At length the old man asked: 
 "Goin' to Californy, Dick?" 
 The trapper replied in the affirmative. 
 " What a goin' to do arterward? " 
 " I'm a goin' to take to the mountains, an' 
 stay thar," replied Dick. " I've seed the in- 
 side of a city, Bob; have rid on steam rail- 
 roads an' boats as big as one of the Black 
 Hills; an' now I'm satisfied to stay here. I'd 
 a heap sooner face a grizzly or a Injun than go 
 back thar ag'in, 'cause I didn't feel to hum." 
 
 " Wai, I'm all alone now, Dick," said the old 
 man, " an' so are you. Our chums are gone,
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 43 
 
 an' we both want to settle with them Co- 
 manche varmints; so, let's stick together." 
 
 Dick seemed delighted with this proposition, 
 for he quickly arose from his blanket and ex- 
 tended his hand to his companion, who shook 
 it heartily; and the boys read in their faces a 
 determination to stand by each other to the 
 last. 
 
 " I've got a chum now, youngsters," said 
 Dick, turning to the boys; " an' one that I ain't 
 afraid to trust anywhar. Thar's nothin' like 
 havin' a friend, even on the prairy. I come 
 with the boys," he added, addressing his com- 
 panion, who, seeing the interest Dick took in 
 his "youngsters," slowly surveyed them from 
 head to foot " I come with 'em jest to show 
 'em how we do things on the prairy. They can 
 shoot consid'ble sharp, an' ain't afraid. All it 
 wants is the hard knocks fightin' Injuns an' 
 grizzlies, an' starvin' on the prairy, an' freezin' 
 in the mountains, to make trappers of 'em." 
 And here Dick settled back on his elbow, and 
 proceeded to give the old man a short account
 
 44 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 of what had transpired at Uncle Joe's cabin; 
 described Frank's fight with the moose and 
 panther in glowing language; told how the 
 capture of the cubs had been effected, until 
 old Bob began to be interested ; and when Dick 
 finished his story, he said: 
 
 " The youngsters would make good trap- 
 pers." 
 
 This, as the trapper afterward told the boys, 
 was a compliment old Bob seldom paid to any 
 one, " for," said he, "I've knowed him a long 
 time, an' have been in many a fight with him, 
 an' he never told me I was good or bad." 
 
 " Wai," said Dick, again turning to his com- 
 panion, " You said as how Jack Thomas was 
 rubbed out. How did it happen?" 
 
 Old Bob refilled his pipe, smoked a few mo- 
 ments as if to bring the story fresh to his 
 memory, and then answered: 
 
 " When I heered that Bill Lawson war 
 gone, an' that you war left alone, I done my 
 best to find you, an' get you to jine a small 
 party we war makin' up to visit our ole huntin'
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 45 
 
 grounds on the Saskatchewan; but you had 
 tuk to the mountains, and nobody didn't know 
 wliar to go to find you. Thar war eight of us 
 in the party, an' here, you see, are all that are 
 left. As nigh as I can 'member, it war 'bout 
 four year ago come spring that we sot out 
 from the fort, whar we had sold our furs. We 
 had three pack mules, plenty of powder, ball, 
 an' sich like, an' we started in high sperits, 
 tellin' the trader that bought our spelter that 
 we'd have a fine lot fur him ag'in next meetin' 
 time. We knowed thar war plenty of Injuns 
 an' sich varmints to be fit an' killed afore we 
 come back, but that didn't trouble us none, 
 'cause we all knowed our own bisness, and 
 didn't think but that we would come through 
 all right, jest as we had done a hundred times 
 afore. We didn't intend to stop afore we got 
 to the Saskatchewan; so we traveled purty 
 fast, an' in 'bout three weeks found ourselves 
 in the Blackfoot country, nigh the Missouri 
 River. One night we camped on a leetle 
 stream at the foot of the mountains, an' the
 
 46 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 next mornin', jest as we war gettin' ready to 
 start out ag'in, Jack Thomas who, like a 
 youngster turned loose from school, war allers 
 runnin' round, pokin' his nose into whatever 
 war goin 1 on came gallopin' into camp, shout- 
 ing: 
 
 "'Buffaler! buffaler!' 
 
 " In course, we all knowed what that meant, 
 an' as we hadn't tasted buffaler hump since 
 leavin' the fort, we saddled up in a hurry an' 
 put arter the game. We went along kinder 
 easy-like Jack leadin' the way until we 
 come to the top of a swell, an' thar they war 
 nothin' but buffaler as fur as a feller could 
 see. It war a purty sight, an' more'n one of us 
 made up our minds that we would have a good 
 supper that night. We couldn't get no nigher 
 to 'em without bein' diskivered, so we scat- 
 tered and galloped arter 'em. In course, the 
 minit we showed ourselves they put off like 
 the wind ; but we war in easy shootin' distance, 
 an' afore we got through with 'em, I had 
 knocked over four big fellers an' wounded
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 47 
 
 another. He war hurt so bad he couldn't run ; 
 but I didn't like to go up too clost to him, so I 
 rid off a leetle way, an' war loadin' up my rifle 
 to give him a settler, when I heered a noise 
 that made me prick up my ears an' look sharp. 
 I heered a trampin, an' I knowed it war made 
 by something 'sides a buffaler. Now, young- 
 sters, a greenhorn wouldn't a seed anything 
 strange in that; but when I heered it, I didn't 
 stop to kill the wounded buffaler, but turned 
 my hoss an' made tracks. I hadn't gone 
 more'n twenty rod afore I seed four Black- 
 foot Injuns comin' over a swell 'bout half a 
 mile back. I had kept my eyes open as I 
 allers do but I hadn't seen a bit of Injun sign 
 on the prairy, an' I made up my mind to onct 
 that them Blackfoot varmints had been shy in' 
 round arter the same buffaler we had jest been 
 chasin', an' that they didn't know we war 
 'bout till they heered us shoot. Then, in 
 course, they put arter us, 'cause they think a 
 heap more of scalps than they do of buffaler 
 meat.
 
 48 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 " Wai, as I war sayin', I made tracks sud- 
 den; but they warn't long in diskiverin' me, 
 an' they sot up a yell. I've heered that same 
 yell often, an' I have kinder got used to it ; but 
 I would have give my boss, an' this rLfle, too, 
 that I have carried for goin' nigh onto twenty 
 year, if I had been safe in Fort Laramie, 
 'cause I didn't think them four Injuns war 
 alone. I war sartin they had friends not a 
 great way off, an' somehow I a'most knowed 
 how the hul thing was comin' out. I didn't 
 hardly know which way to go to find our fel- 
 lers, 'cause while we were arter the buffaler 
 we had got scattered a good deal; but jest as 
 I come to the top of a swell I seed 'em acomin'. 
 Jack Thomas war ahead, an' he war swingin' 
 his rifle an' yellin' wusser nor any Injun. I'll 
 allow, Dick, that it made me fell a heap easier 
 when I seed them trappers. Jack, who allers 
 knowed what war goin' on in the country fur 
 five miles round, had first diskivered the In- 
 juns, an' had got all the party together 'cept 
 me, an' in course they couldn't think of savin*
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 49 
 
 their own venison by runnin' off and leavin' 
 me. 
 
 " Wai, jest as soon as we got together we 
 set up a yell and faced 'bout. The Injuns, up 
 to this time, had rid clost together; but when 
 they seed that we warn't goin' to run no 
 further jest then, they scattered as if they war 
 goin' to surround us; an' then we all knowed 
 that them four Injuns warn't alone. So, with- 
 out stoppin* to fight 'em, we turned an' run 
 ag'in, makin' tracks for the woods at the foot 
 of the mountains. An' we warn't a minit too 
 soon, fur all of a sudden we heered a yell, an' 
 lookin' back we seed 'bout fifty more redskins 
 com in' arter us like mad. They had a'most got 
 us surrounded; but the way to the mountains 
 war open, an' we run fur our lives. The var- 
 lets that had followed me war in good pluggin' 
 distance, an' when we turned in our saddles 
 an 7 drawed a bead on 'em, we had four less to 
 deal with. It warn't more'n ten mile to the 
 foot of them mountains, but it seemed a hun- 
 dred to us, an' we all drawed a long breath
 
 5o Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 when we found ourselves under kiver of the 
 woods. The minit we reached the timber we 
 jumped off our bosses, hitched them to the 
 trees, an' made up our minds to fight it out 
 thar an' then. We knowed, as well as we 
 wanted to know, what the Injuns would do 
 next they would leave a party on the Prairy 
 to watch us, an' the rest would go sneakin' 
 round through the woods an' pick us off one 
 at a time. The only thing we could do least- 
 wise till it come dark war to watch the var- 
 lets, an' drop every one of 'em that showed 
 his painted face in pluggin' distance. We war 
 in a tight place. Our pack mules, an' a'most 
 all our kit, had been left in the camp, an' we 
 knowed it wouldn't be long afore the Injuns 
 would have 'em, an' even if we got off with our 
 har, we wouldn't be much better off no traps, 
 no grub, an' skeercely half a dozen bullets in 
 our pouches. 
 
 "Wai, the Injuns, when they seed that we 
 had tuk to the timber, stopped, takin' mighty 
 .good keer, as they thought, to keep out of
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 51 
 
 range of our rifles, an' began to hold a palaver, 
 now an' then lookin' t'wards us an' settin' up 
 a yell, which told us plain enough that they 
 thought they had us ketched. But we, knowiu' 
 to an inch how fur our shootin' irons would 
 carry, drawed up an' blazed away; an' we 
 knowed, by the way them red-skins got back 
 over that swell, that we hadn't throwed our 
 lead away. They left one feller thar to watch 
 us, howsomever, but he tuk mighty good keer 
 to keep purty well out of sight, showin' only 
 'bout two inches of his head 'bove the top of 
 the hill. While the Injuns war holdin' their 
 council, we had a talk 'bout what we had bet- 
 ter do. The truth war, thar war only one 
 thing we could do, an' that war to stay thar 
 until dark an' then take our chances. We had 
 all fit savage Injuns enough to know that they 
 wouldn't bother us much so long as daylight 
 lasted; but arter that, if we didn't get away 
 from thar, our lives war not worth a charge 
 of powder. We soon made up our minds what 
 we would do. We divided ourselves into two
 
 52 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 parties four of us watchin' the prairy, an' 
 the others keepin' an eye on the woods, to see 
 -that the varlets didn't slip up behind us. 
 
 " Wai, we didn't see nothin' out of the way 
 all that day. Thar war that feller peepin' 
 over the hill, an' that war the only thing in 
 the shape of a red-skin we could see; an' we 
 didn't hear nothin' neither, fur whatever they 
 done, they didn't make noise enough to skeer 
 a painter. At last it come night, an' it war 
 'bout the darkest night I ever see no moon, 
 no stars an' then we began to prick up our 
 ears. We all knowed that the time had come. 
 You can easy tell what we war passin' through 
 our minds. Thar warn't no sich thing as a 
 coward among us eight fellers, but men in sich 
 a scrape as that can't help thinkin', an' I 
 knowed that every one thar drawed a long 
 breath when he thought of what he had got 
 to do. I tell you, Dick, it war something none 
 of us liked to do leave one another in that 
 way men that you have hunted, an' trapped, 
 an' fought Injuns with, an' mebbe slept under
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 53 
 
 the same blanket with, an' who have stuck 
 to you through thick an' thin sich fellers, I 
 say, you don't like to desart when they're in 
 danger. But what else could we do? We war 
 a'niost out of powder an' lead, an' the Injuns 
 war more'n six to our one. You have been 
 in sich scrapes, an' in course know that thar 
 warn't but one way open to us. 
 
 " Wai, as I was savin', as soon as it come 
 fairly dark, the boys gathered 'round me, an' 
 waited to hear what I war goin' to do. In 
 course, I couldn't advise 'em, 'cause it war 
 every feller look out fur himself, an' the best 
 men war them as was lucky enough to get 
 away. So I said: 
 
 " ' I'm goin' to start now, boys. It's high 
 time we war movin\ cause if we stay here half 
 an hour longer, we'll have them red-skins down 
 on us in a lump. Thars somethin' goin' on, 
 sartin. They don't keep so still fur nothin'.' 
 
 " Wai, we whispered the matter over, an' 
 finally settled it. The oldest man war to go 
 fust; the next oldest, second; an' so on; an'
 
 54 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 that them as got away should draw a bee-line 
 fur Fort Laramie, an' get thar to onct, so 
 that we might know who got off an' who didn't. 
 We didn't think we should all get away. Some 
 war sartin to go under; an', Dick, we didn't 
 forget to promise each other that those of us 
 that lived would never let a red Injun cross 
 our trail. When everything was .settled, I 
 bein' the oldest man in the comp'ny, began to 
 get ready fur the start. I put fresh prim in' 
 in my rifle ; seed that my knife and tomahawk 
 war all right; then, arter shakin' hands with 
 all the boys, an' wish in' 'em good luck, I 
 crawled away on my hands an' knees. I didn't 
 go back into the woods, but tuk to the edge of 
 the prairy, an' found the way cl'ar. Not an 
 Injun did I hear. As fur seem', you couldn't 
 a told your mother, if she warn't two foot 
 from you ; an' in 'bout half an hour I found my- 
 self on the banks of a leetle creek. How long- 
 
 C? 
 
 I lay thar, an' how much of that water I drunk, 
 I don't know ; but I thought water never tasted 
 so good afore. Then I walked into the creek,
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 55 
 
 an' had waded in it fur 'bout half a mile, when 
 all to onct I heered a yell in' an' whoopin', fol- 
 lowed by the crack of rifles, an' then I knowed 
 that I hadn't been fooled consarniu' what the 
 red-skins meant to do. They had got what war 
 left of our fellers surrounded, an' made the 
 rush. For a minit I stood thar in the water 
 an' listened. I heered a few shots made by our 
 poor fellers, 'cause I can tell the crack of a 
 Missouri rifle as fur as I can hear it; an' then 
 one long, loud yell, told me that it war all 
 over. 
 
 " Wai, I laid round in them mountains fur 
 more'n six weeks, starvin' fur grub an' water, 
 an' listenin' to the yellin' varlets that war 
 Imntin' arter me; but I got back safe at last, 
 arter walkin' all the way from the Rocky 
 Mountains to the fort, an' thar I found Jack 
 Thomas. Me an' him war the only ones that 
 got out. When the Injuns got them six fel- 
 lers, they rubbed out nearly the last one of 
 our comp'ny. Me an' Jack war mighty down- 
 hearted 'bout it, an' it war a long time afore
 
 \ 
 
 56 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 we could believe that we war left alone. We 
 didn't feel then like ever goin' back to the 
 mountains ag'in, 'cause we knowed it would 
 be lonesome thar. In course, we could easy 
 have made up another expedition, fur thar war 
 plenty of hunters an' trappers good ones, too 
 hangin' round the fort; but somehow we 
 didn't feel like goin' off with any one outside 
 of our own comp'ny. 
 
 " Wai, me and Jack laid round as long as 
 we could stand it, an' then we got a couple of 
 hosses, another new kit, an' sot off ag'in. We 
 didn't think it safe fur only two of us to try 
 the Black foot country ag'in, so we struck for 
 the huntin' grounds on the Colorado. At that 
 time thar war plenty of beaver in that river; 
 so it didn't take us long to find a place that 
 suited us; an' we settled down, comfortable- 
 like, to spend the winter. Fur three months 
 we had plenty of sport, an' the sight of our pile 
 of furs, grow in' bigger an' bigger every day, 
 made us happy an' contented. One mornin' 
 we sot out bright an' 'arly, as usual, to 'tend to
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 57 
 
 our bisness, takin' different directions fur 
 my traps war sot on the side of the mountain, 
 an' Jack had sot his'n on the banks of the 
 creek that run through the valley. I had been 
 gone frum him but a short time, when I heered 
 the crack of his rifle. Somehow, I knowed it 
 A\ar somethin' 'sides a varmint he had shot at; 
 an' I warn't fooled neither, for a mi nit arter- 
 ward I heered another gun, an' then afore I 
 could think twice a Comanche yell come 
 echoin' from the valley, tellin' me plainer nor 
 words that my chum war gone. An Injun had 
 watched one of his traps, an' shot him as he 
 come to it. I knowed it as sartin as if I had 
 seed the hul thing done. 
 
 " Wai, I warn't in a fix kalkerlated to make 
 a feller feel very pleasant. I war three hun- 
 dred miles from the nighest fort, in the very 
 heart of the Comanche country, an' in the dead 
 of winter, with the snow two foot deep on a 
 level. But I didn't stop to think of them 
 Hiings then. My bisness war to get away from 
 thar to onct. In course, I couldn't go back
 
 58 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 arter my boss or spelter, fur I didn't know how 
 many Injuns thar war in the valley, nor whar 
 they had hid themselves; so I shouldered my 
 rifle an' sot off on foot t' wards the prairy. A 
 .storm that come up that night an' it snowed 
 an' blowed in a way that warn't a funny thing 
 to look at kivered up my trail; an' if I war 
 ever follered, I don't know it. 
 
 " I finally reached the fort, an' I've been 
 thar ever since. I'm an ole chap now, Dick; 
 but when I hunted an' trapped with your ole 
 man, when me an' him warn't bigger nor them 
 two youngsters, an' hadn't hardly strength 
 enough to shoulder a rifle, I never thought that 
 I should live to be the last of our comp'ny. In 
 them days the prairy war different from what 
 it is now. It war afore the hoss-thieves an' 
 rascals began to come in here to get away from 
 the laws of the States; an' them that called 
 themselves trappers then war honest men, that 
 never did harm to a lone person on the prairy. 
 But they've gone, one arter the other, an' only 
 me an' you are left."
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 59 
 
 As the old trapper ceased speaking, he arose 
 suddenly to his feet and disappeared in the 
 darkness, leaving Dick gazing thoughtfully 
 into the fire. It was an hour before he re- 
 turned, mounted on his horse, which he pick- 
 eted with the others. He then silently rolled 
 himself up in his blanket and went to sleep.
 
 60 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 A FIGHT WITH THE INDIANS. 
 
 WHEN setting out the next morning, Frank 
 noticed that the wagons, instead of starting 
 off singly, and straggling, as they had formerly 
 done, kept close together, and traveled more 
 rapidly. The trapper, too, instead of taking 
 the lead, and getting in advance of the train, 
 seemed satisfied to remain with the others. 
 Upon inquiring the reason for this, Dick 
 replied : 
 
 " You may find out afore night, youngster, 
 that we are in a bad bit of Injun country. The 
 train that went out afore us had a scrimmage 
 here with nigh five hundred of the red-skins, 
 who stampeded some of their stock. So keep 
 your eyes open, an' if you see a Injun, let me
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 61 
 
 know to onct." The trapper said this with a 
 broad grin, that was meant to imply that if 
 they were attacked, the Indians would make 
 their appearance before a person so inexpe- 
 rienced as Frank could be aware of it. 
 
 " The red-skins don't generally keer 'bout an 
 out-an'-out fight," continued the trapper, 
 " cause they don't like these long rifles, an' 
 tlicy know that these yere pioneers shoot 
 mighty sharp. All the Injuns want or all 
 they can get is the stock ; an' they sometimes 
 jump on to a train afore a feller knows it, an' 
 yell an" kick up a big fuss, which frightens the 
 tattle. That's what we call stampedin' 'em. 
 An', youngster, do you see that 'ar? " 
 
 As the trapper spoke, he pointed out over 
 the prairie towards a little hill about two miles 
 distant. After gazing for a few moments in 
 the direction indicated, Archie replied : 
 
 " I see something that looks like a weed or 
 a tuft of grass." 
 
 " Wai, that's no weed," said the trapper, 
 with a laugh, " nor grass, neither. If it is, it's
 
 62 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 on hossback, an' carries a shootin'-iron or a bow 
 an' arrer. That's a Injun, or I never seed one 
 afore. What do you say, Bob? " he asked, 
 turning to the old trapper, who at this moment 
 came up. 
 
 " I seed that five minutes ago," was the 
 reply, " an' in course it can't be nothin' but a 
 red-skin." 
 
 The boys gazed long and earnestly at the 
 object, but their eyes were not as sharp as 
 those of the trappers, for they could not dis- 
 cover that it bore any resemblance to an In- 
 dian, until Mr. Winters handed them his field- 
 glass through which he had been regarding the 
 object ever since its discovery. Then they 
 found that the trappers had not been deceived. 
 It was a solitary Indian, who sat on his horse 
 as motionless as a statue, no doubt watching 
 the train, and endeavoring to satisfy himself 
 of the number of men there might be to defend 
 it. In his hand he carried something that 
 looked like a spear adorned with a tuft of 
 feathers.
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 63 
 
 " I wish the varlet was in good pluggin' dis- 
 tance," said Dick, patting his rifle which lay 
 across his knees. " If I could only get a bead 
 on him, he would never carry back to his fel- 
 lers the news of what lie has seed." 
 
 " Do you suppose there are more of them? " 
 asked Archie, in a voice that would tremble in 
 spite of himself. 
 
 " Sartin," replied old Bob Kelly, who still 
 rode beside the wagon ; " thar's more of 'em 
 not fur off. This feller is a kind o' spy like, 
 an' when he has seen exactly how things stand, 
 he'll go back an 'tell the rest of 'em, an' the 
 fust thing we know, they'll be down on us like 
 a hawk on a June-bug. But they'll ketch a 
 weasel, they will, when they pitch into us. 
 Dick, when they do come, don't forget Bill 
 Lawson." 
 
 The trapper turned his head, for a moment, 
 as if to hide the emotion he felt, at the mention 
 of the name of his departed companion, but 
 presently replied: 
 
 " This ain't the fust time that you an' me
 
 64 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 have been in jest sick scrapes, Bob, an' it ain't 
 likely that we'll soon forget that we owe the 
 varlets a long settlement. Thar ain't as many 
 of us now as thar used to be ; more'n one good 
 trapper has had his har raised by them same 
 red-skins fur I know a Cheyenne as fur as I 
 kin see him, youngsters an' mebbe one o* 
 these days, when someone asks, ' What's come 
 on ole Bob Kelly an' Dick Lewis? ' the answer 
 will be, ' Killed by the Injuns! ' 
 
 It may be readily supposed that such con- 
 versation as tliis was not calculated to quiet 
 the feelings of Frank and Archie who had 
 been considerably agitated by the information 
 that there was a body of hostile Indians at no 
 great distance and to their excited imagina- 
 tions the danger appeared tenfold worse than 
 it really was. At that day, as the trapper had 
 remarked, it was a very uncommon occurrence 
 for a large train to be engaged in a regular 
 fight with the Indians, for the latter had 
 learned to their cost that the pioneers were 
 always well armed, and that there were some
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 65 
 
 among them who understood Indian fighting. 
 They generally contented themselves with sud- 
 den and rapid raids upon the stock of the emi- 
 grants, and they seldom departed empty- 
 handed. But it is not to be wondered that the 
 trappers, who had participated in numberless 
 engagements with the savages, and witnessed 
 deeds of cruelty that had awakened in them a 
 desire for vengeance, should delight to talk 
 over their experience. The boys, although con- 
 siderably frightened, were still greatly en- 
 couraged by their example. Dick twisted un- 
 easily on his seat, as though impatient for the 
 fight to begin, now and then looking toward 
 the spy, as if he had half a mind to venture a 
 shot at him; while old Bob Kelly rode along, 
 smoking his pipe, apparently as unconcerned 
 as though there was not a hostile Indian 
 within a hundred miles of them. Mr. Winters 
 evidently partook of the old man's indifference, 
 for, after satisfying himself that his weapons 
 were in readiness, he drew back beside his 
 nephews, and said, with a smile:
 
 66 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 " Well, boys, you may have an opportunity 
 to try your skill on big game now. This will 
 be a little different from the fight you had 
 in the woods with those Indians who stole 
 your traps. Then you had the force on your 
 side; now the savages are the stronger party. 
 But there's no danger," he added, quickly 
 seeing that the boys looked rather anxious; 
 " every man in the train is a good shot, and the 
 most of them have been in Indian fights before. 
 I don't believe all the red-skins on the prairie 
 could whip us while we have Dick and Bob 
 with us." 
 
 The boys themselves had great confidence in 
 the trappers especially Dick, who, they knew, 
 would never desert them. But even he had 
 several times been worsted by the Indians. 
 Frank thought of the story of the lost wagon 
 train. But then he remembered that the 
 reason that train was captured, was because 
 the emigrants had not " stood up to the mark 
 like men." 
 
 All this while the train had been moving
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 67 
 
 ihead at a rapid pace, and many an anxious 
 eye was directed toward the solitary Indian, 
 \\ ho remained standing where he was first dis- 
 covered until the wagons had passed, when he 
 suddenly and mysteriously disappeared. All 
 that day the emigrants rode with their weap- 
 ons in their hands, in readiness to repel an 
 attack; and when they halted at noon, guards 
 were posted about the camp, and the cattle 
 were kept close to the wagons. But, although 
 now and then a single Indian would be seen 
 upon one of the distant swells, the main body 
 kept out of sight; and the boys began to hope 
 that the train was considered too large to be 
 successfully attacked. At night old Bob Kelly 
 selected the place for the encampment, which 
 was made according to his directions. The 
 wagons were drawn up in a circle to form a 
 breastwork, and the cattle were picketed close 
 by under the protection of a strong guard. 
 Fires were built, and preparations for supper 
 carried on as usual, for, of course, all attempts 
 a*- concealment would have been time and
 
 68 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 labor thrown away. As soon as it began to 
 grow dark, the cattle were secured to the 
 wagons by long stout ropes, which, while they 
 allowed the animals to graze, effectually pre- 
 vented escape. Then guards were selected, 
 and the emigrants made every preparation to 
 give the savages a warm reception, in case 
 they should make a dash upon the camp. No 
 one thought of his blanket. The idea of going 
 to sleep while a band of Indians was hovering 
 about, watching their opportunity to pounce 
 down upon them, was out of the question. The 
 two trappers, after satisfying themselves that 
 everything was in readiness for an attack, 
 began to station the guards. Frank again 
 thought of the story Dick had related of the 
 lost wagon train, and, desiring to witness an 
 exhibition of the skill that had enabled him 
 to detect the presence of the Indians on that 
 occasion, proposed to Archie that they should 
 stand guard with him. The latter, who always 
 felt safe when in the company of their guide, 
 agreed; and when the trapper started off with
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 69 
 
 the guards, he was surprised to find the boys 
 at his side. 
 
 " Wlmr are you goin'?" he asked. 
 
 " \Ve want to stand guard with you ! " re- 
 plied Frank. 
 
 " Wai, I never did see sich keerless fellers 
 as you be," said the trapper. " You get wusser 
 an' wusser. Much you don't know about this 
 bisness. I guess you had better stay here whar 
 you're safe." 
 
 " Wai, wal ! " said old Bob Kelly, who was 
 not a little astonished at the request the boys 
 had made, " they've got the real grit in 'em, 
 that's a fact, if they are green as punkins in 
 Injun fightin'. A few year on the prairy 
 would make 'em as good as me or you, Dick 
 Lewis. But you'll get enough of Injuns afore 
 you see daylight ag'in youngsters. So you 
 had better stay here-" 
 
 So saying he shouldered his rifle, and, fol- 
 lowed by the guards, disappeared in the dark- 
 less. The boys reluctantly returned to their 
 wagon, where they found Uncle James, seated
 
 70 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 on the ground, whistling softly to himself, and 
 apparently indifferent as to the course the 
 Indians might see fit to adopt. But still he 
 had not neglected to make preparations to re- 
 ceive them, for his rifle stood leaning against 
 one of the wheels of the wagon, and he carried 
 his revolvers in his belt. The boys silently 
 seated themselves on the ground beside him, 
 and awaited the issue of events with their feel- 
 ings worked up to the highest pitch of excite- 
 ment. The fires had burned low, but still 
 there was light sufficient to enable them to 
 discover the emigrants stretched on the ground 
 about the wagons, talking to one another in 
 whispers, as if almost afraid to break the still- 
 ness that brooded over the camp, and which 
 was interrupted only by the barking of the 
 prairie wolves, and the neighing and tramping 
 of the horses. Two hours were passed in this 
 way, when suddenly the sharp report of a rifle, 
 accompanied by a terrific yell, rang out on the 
 air, causing the emigrants to grasp their 
 weapons and spring to their feet in alarm.
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 71 
 
 For an instant all was silent again. The still- 
 ness was so deep that Frank thought the camp 
 v>'as suddenly deserted. Then a long drawn 
 out whoop arose from the prairie, followed by a 
 chorus of yells that struck terror to more than 
 one heart in that wagon train. Then came a 
 clatter of horses' hoofs; the yells grew louder 
 and louder; and the boys knew that the 
 Indians were coming toward them. The emi- 
 grants rushed to the wagons, and the next mo- 
 ment the savages swept by. The boys saw a 
 confused mass of rapidly-moving horsemen ; 
 heard the most terrific yells, the report of 
 fire-arms, and the struggles of the frightened 
 cattle as they attempted to escape, and then all 
 was over. The Indians departed as rapidly as 
 they had come, and the boys, bewildered by the 
 noise, had not fired a shot. On the contrary, 
 they stood holding their rifles in their hands, 
 as if they had suddenly forgotten how to use 
 them. Uncle James, however, was not con- 
 fused. He had heard the war-whoop before, 
 and as he came out from behind the wagon,
 
 72 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 he began to reload one of his revolvers, remark- 
 ing as he did so : 
 
 " There are some less in that band, I 
 know.'' 
 
 " Did you shoot? " asked Archie, drawing a 
 long breath of relief to know that the danger 
 was past. " Why, I didn't have time to fire a 
 shot." 
 
 " That's because you were frightened," re- 
 plied Mr. Winters. " You see I have been in 
 skirmishes like this before, and their yells 
 don't make me nervous. I had five good shots 
 at them, and I don't often miss." 
 
 " I say, youngsters, are you all right? " ex- 
 claimed Dick, who at this moment came up. 
 "See here!. I've got two fellers' top-knots. 
 Bless you, they ain't scalps," he continued, as 
 the boys drew back. " They're only the feath- 
 ers the Injuns wear in their har. I don't scalp 
 Cheyennes, 'cause I don't keer 'bout 'em. I 
 make war on 'em 'cause it's natur. But when 
 I knock over a Comanche, I take his har jest 
 to 'member ole Bill by. But, youngsters,
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 73 
 
 warn't that jolly! I haven't heered a Injun 
 yell fur more'n a year, an' it makes me feel to 
 hum. You caK take these feathers, an' when 
 you get back to Lawrence, tell the folks thar 
 that the Injuns that wore 'em onct attacked 
 the train you belonged to." 
 
 The emigrants' first care, after having sat- 
 isfied themselves that the Indians had gone, 
 was to count their stock; and more than one 
 had to mourn the loss of a favorite horse or 
 mule, which had escaped and gone off with the 
 Indians. Mr. Winters, however, had lost noth- 
 ing the trapper having tied the animals so 
 securely that escape was impossible. Not a 
 person in the train was injured the only 
 damage sustained being in the canvas covers 
 of the wagons, which were riddled with bullets 
 and arrows. 
 
 The boys were still far from feeling safe, 
 and probably would not have gone to bed that 
 night had they not seen the trappers spread- 
 ing their blankets near the wagon. This re- 
 assured them, for those men never would have
 
 74 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 thought of rest if there had been the least prob- 
 ability that the Indians would return. So the 
 boys took their beds out of the wagon and 
 placed them beside those of Dick and his com- 
 panion, who were talking over the events of 
 the night. 
 
 " This bisness of fightin' Injuns, young- 
 sters," said the former, " is one that ain't larnt 
 out of books, nor in the woods about Lawrence. 
 If you had a-been with us, you would a seed 
 that. Now, when I fust went out thar, you 
 couldn't 'a' told that thar war a red-skin on 
 the prairy. But I laid my ear to the ground, 
 an' purty quick I heerd a rumblin' like, an' I 
 knowed the noise war made by bosses. Arter 
 that, I heerd a rustlin' in the grass, an' seed a 
 Injun sneakin' along, easy like, t'wards the 
 camp. So I drawed up my ole shootin' iron, 
 an' done the bisness fur him, an' then started 
 fur the camp, loadin' my rifle as I ran. In 
 course the Injuns seed then that it warn't no 
 use to go a-foolin' with us, so they all set up 
 a yell, an' here they come. I dodged under the
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 75 
 
 wagon, an' as they went by, I give 'em another 
 shot, an' seed a red-skin go off dead." 
 
 " Go off dead ! " repeated Frank. " How 
 could he go off when he was dead? " 
 
 " Why," said the trapper, with a laugh, in 
 which he was joined by old Bob Kelly, "every 
 one of them Injuns war tied fast to his hoss, 
 so that if he war killed he wouldn't fall off; 
 an', in course, his hoss would keep on with the 
 rest, an' carry him away. I seed more'n one 
 Injun go off dead to-night, an' the way I come 
 to get them feathers, b'longin' to them two 
 chaps, war, that somebody had shot their 
 hosses. I seed 'em on the ground, tryin' to cut 
 themselves loose from their saddles, so I run 
 up an' settled 'em. That war four I rubbed 
 out. Good-night, youngsters. You needn't be 
 afraid, 'cause they won't come back again to- 
 night." 
 
 As the trapper spoke, he placed his cap 
 under his head for a pillow, re-arranged his 
 blanket, and was soon in a sound sleep. 
 
 During the next two weeks nothing occurred
 
 76 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 to relieve the monotony of the journey. The 
 train took up its line of march at daylight, 
 halted at noon for an hour or two, and shortly 
 after sunset encamped for the night. The fight 
 with the Indians had not driven all thoughts 
 of the antelopes out of the boys' minds. And 
 while the train journeyed along the road, they 
 scoured the prairie, in search of the wished-for 
 game. The appearance of the " sea of grass," 
 which stretched away on all sides, as far as 
 their eyes could reach, not a little surprised 
 them. Instead of the perfectly level plain they 
 had expected to see, the surface of the prairie 
 was broken by gentle swells, like immense 
 waves of the ocean, and here and there some- 
 times two or three days' journey apart were 
 small patches of woods, called " oak openings." 
 
 One night they made their camp in sight of 
 the Rocky Mountains. While the trapper was 
 cooking their supper, he said to the boys, who 
 had thrown themselves on the ground near the 
 wagon : 
 
 " It ain't fur from here that me an' ole Bill
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 77 
 
 Lawson lost that wagon train. I never travel 
 along here that I don't think of that night, an' 
 I sometimes feel my cap rise on my head, jest 
 as it did when them Injuns come pourin' injo 
 the camp. But the varlets have been pushed 
 back further an' further, an' now a feller's as 
 safe here as he would be in Fort Laramie. The 
 ole bar's hole ain't more'n fifty mile from here, 
 an' if your uncle don't mind the ride, I should 
 like to show you the cave that has so often 
 sarved me fur a hidin'-place." 
 
 The boys looked toward Mr. Winters, who, 
 having frequently heard the guide speak of 
 the " ole bar's hole," felt some curiosity to see 
 it. So, after being assured by both the trappers 
 that there was no danger to be apprehended, 
 he gave his consent, remarking: 
 
 " We are in no hurry. I don't suppose there 
 is any possibility of being lost so long as we 
 have Dick and Bob for guides; so we will go 
 there, and take a week's rest and a hunt." 
 
 The boys were delighted, and the next morn- 
 ing, when the train resumed its journey, the
 
 78 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 emigrants were not a little surprised to see Mr. 
 Winters' wagon moving off by itself. 
 
 That night, when our travelers encamped, 
 they were thirty miles from the train, and 
 about the same distance from the " ole bar's 
 hole." The mountains were plainly visible, 
 and the boys could scarcely believe that they 
 were nearly a day's journey distant. They 
 were certain that a ride of an hour or two 
 would bring them to the willows that skirted 
 their base. 
 
 " Tain't the fust time I've seed fellers fooled 
 'bout sich things/' said Dick. " Do you see 
 that 'ar high peak?" he continued, pointing 
 to a single mountain that rose high above the 
 others. " Wai, thar's whar the ole bar's hole 
 is. If we reach it afore dark to-morrer night, 
 I'll agree to set you down in Sacramento in 
 two weeks." 
 
 The boys were still far from being convinced, 
 and they went to sleep that night fully believ- 
 ing that they would reach the mountains by 
 noon the next day.
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 79 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 LOST ON THE PRAIRIE. 
 
 THE next morning, by the time the sun had 
 risen, the travelers had eaten their breakfast, 
 and were again on the move. The entire party 
 was in high spirits. The trappers laughed and 
 joked with each other, and pointed out to Mr. 
 Winters the familiar objects that met their 
 eye on every side, while the boys galloped on 
 before, and in a few moments had left the 
 wagon far behind. Their horses were in ex- 
 cellent trim, and bounded along over the 
 prairie as if some of their riders' spirits had 
 been infused into them. 
 
 " I say, Frank," said Archie, at length, sud- 
 denly drawing in his rein, " what if Dick was 
 mistaken about the Indians all being gone, and
 
 8o Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 a party of Comanclies should suddenly pounce 
 down on us? Wouldn't we be in a fix? I de- 
 clare, I see an Indian now," he added ; and, as 
 he spoke, he pointed toward an object that 
 could be dimly seen moving along the summit 
 of a distant swell. 
 
 " That's something, that's a fact," said 
 Frank, gazing in the direction indicated ; " but 
 it don't look like that Indian we saw the other 
 day. If it was a Comanche, he wouldn't move 
 about and show himself so plainly. There's 
 another and another," he continued, as sev- 
 eral more objects came over the brow of the 
 hill. " Let us ride up a little nearer. If they 
 are Indians, we can easily reach the wagon 
 before they can overtake us." 
 
 " Well, come on," said Archie. " If we 
 should get into a fight all by ourselves, and 
 come safely out of it, it would be something to 
 talk about, wouldn't it?" 
 
 The boys rode cautiously toward the objects, 
 which were still increasing in number, holding 
 themselves in readiness to beat a hasty retreat
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 81 
 
 in case they should prove to be Indians, until 
 they had gone about half a mile, when Frank 
 suddenly exclaimed: 
 
 "They are antelopes!" 
 
 "Are they?" asked Archie, excitedly. 
 " Let's shoot one of 'em," and, springing from 
 his saddle, he began to unbuckle his halter and 
 hobble his horse, as he had seen the trapper do 
 on a former occasion. 
 
 Frank followed his example, and then, secur- 
 ing their rifles, they threw themselves on their 
 hands and knees, and began to crawl toward 
 the game, which was fully a mile and a half 
 distant. But that was no obstacle to the 
 boys then. They would willingly have gone 
 twice that far to have a shot at an antelope, 
 if for nothing more than to show the trapper 
 that they were better hunters than he had sup- 
 posed. It is true they did not expect to suc- 
 ceed, but the name " antelope killers " was 
 well worth trying for, and they determined to 
 do their best. They crawled along slowly and 
 as carefully as possible, pausing now and then
 
 82 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 to look over the grass at the animals, which, to 
 their delight, they found were feeding directly 
 toward them. 
 
 " I don't think it is safe to go much further," 
 said Frank, after they had crawled nearly half 
 the distance in this manner. " Let's stop and 
 see what we can do." 
 
 " Well," said Archie. " If you will hold up 
 your handkerchief on your ramrod, I'll try and 
 shoot one of them, if they come near enough." 
 
 Frank, in compliance with his cousin's sug- 
 gestion, drew his ramrod from his gun, fas- 
 tened his handkerchief to it, and, throwing 
 himself upon his back, carefully raised it above 
 the grass. While in this position he could not, 
 of course, see the movements of the game ; but 
 Archie kept vigilant watch, and at length 
 whispered: 
 
 "They see it! They're coining!" 
 
 The animals had, in reality, caught sight of 
 the handkerchief, and, after regarding it for a 
 few moments, they began to approach it a 
 fine large buck leading the way.
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 83 
 
 Now the boys knew that the hunt began in 
 earnest. The least awkward movement on 
 their part the exposure of the smallest por- 
 tion of their bodies, or the slightest noise in the 
 grass might, as Archie expressed it, " knock 
 the whole thing in the head." Frank lay per- 
 fectly quiet, watching the movements of his 
 cousin ; and he could tell, by the expression of 
 his countenance, pretty near what the game 
 was doing. When the antelopes stopped 
 which they did every few feet Archie put on 
 an exceedingly long face, as if fearful that they 
 were about to turn and run; and when they 
 approached, the fact would be indicated by a 
 broad grin and a nervous twitching at the lock 
 of his gun. For fully half an hour it seemed 
 much longer to the impatient boys they re- 
 mained in their place of concealment; but at 
 length their patience was rewarded, for the 
 game was within easy rifle range. In an in- 
 stant Archie's nervousness all vanished, and 
 Frank almost held his breath when he saw him 
 slowly, inch by inch, raise his gun to his shoul-
 
 84 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 der. He took a long, steady aim, pulled the 
 trigger", and sprung from the ground, shouting : 
 
 " I've got him ! I've got him ! " 
 
 Frank was on his feet almost as soon as his 
 cousin, and, to his delight, saw the leader of 
 the antelopes struggling on the ground, while 
 the rest of the herd were scampering away at 
 the top of their speed. 
 
 "What will Dick and Bob say now?*' ex- 
 claimed Archie, who skipped about as though 
 he were almost beside himself. " What will 
 they hold on hold on shoot him, Frank ! " 
 he shouted. " We're going to lose him after 
 all." 
 
 Archie's shot had not been fatal. The buck 
 was only disabled for a moment, and, after a 
 few struggles, he succeeded in regaining his 
 feet, and started to run. Had his cousin been 
 as excited as he was, they certainly would have 
 had all their trouble for nothing, for Archie, 
 instead of stopping to reload, dropped his gun 
 and started in pursuit of the wounded animal, 
 which although he ran but slowly was fast
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 85 
 
 leaving him behind, when Frank, by an excel- 
 lent shot, again brought him to the ground. 
 This time the wound was fatal ; but Archie, to 
 put all further attempts at escape out of the 
 question, ran up and seized the buck by the 
 horns. 
 
 " He's done for now," said Frank, as he pro- 
 ceeded to reload his rifle; " I shot him through 
 the head." 
 
 " I see you did," replied his cousin, still re- 
 taining his hold upon the antelope; "but 
 there's no knowing what he might do. I 
 wouldn't trust him." And it was not until he 
 had turned the deer over several times, and 
 fully satisfied himself that he had ceased to 
 breathe, that Archie released him. 
 
 " What will Dick and Bob say now? " he 
 continued, as Frank came up, and they began 
 to examine their prize, which was much larger 
 than the one the trapper had killed. " You 
 know they said we couldn't shoot an antelope. 
 Now, the next thing is to get him back to the 
 wagon. He's too heavy for us to carry, so if
 
 6 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 you'll stay here, and watch him and keep the 
 wolves off, I'll go back and get the horses." 
 
 Frank agreed to this arrangement, and 
 Archie, after he had found and reloaded his 
 gun, started off after the horses. He was gone 
 almost two hours so long that Frank began to 
 be uneasy; but at length he appeared, riding 
 post-haste over a neighboring swell, mounted 
 on Sleepy Sam, and leading Pete by the bridle. 
 As soon as he came within speaking distance, 
 he exclaimed, with blanched cheeks : 
 
 " Frank, we're lost ! I can't see the wagon 
 anywhere." 
 
 " Don't be uneasy," replied his cousin, who, 
 although thoroughly alarmed by this announce- 
 ment, appeared to be perfectly unconcerned. 
 " Don't be uneasy." 
 
 " But I haven't seen the wagon since we 
 left it this morning," persisted Archie. " I 
 thought it was close behind us. I tell you 
 we're lost." 
 
 " Oh, no, I guess not," answered Frank, as 
 he lifted the antelope from the ground and
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 87 
 
 placed it on the saddle before his cousin. 
 " The wagon is no doubt behind some of these 
 hills. Besides, Uncle James won't be long in 
 hunting us up." 
 
 " I wouldn't stay alone on the prairi to- 
 night for anything," said Archie. " I know it 
 wouldn't be the first time I have camped out, 
 but then there are no wild Indians in the 
 woods about Lawrence." 
 
 Frank had by this time mounted his horse, 
 and together they set out at a rapid gallop to 
 find the wagon. The mountain which Dick 
 had pointed out the night before was plainly 
 visible, and the boys determined to travel to- 
 ward it with all possible speed, in hopes that 
 they would overtake their friends before they 
 halted for the night. Frank thought the 
 wagon could not be far off, and every hill they 
 mounted he gazed about him as if fully expect- 
 ing to discover it; but, after riding an hour 
 without seeing any signs of it, he began to be 
 a good deal of his cousin's opinion, that they 
 were lost. But he made no remark, for he
 
 88 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 knew that a good deal depended upon keeping 
 up Archie's courage. 
 
 " We have not been gone from the wagon 
 three hours," said he, " and they haven't had 
 time to get very far away from us. \Ve'll find 
 them behind some of these swells. Perhaps 
 we'll be in time to give them a piece of our 
 antelope for dinner." 
 
 Archie made no reply, for he derived no en- 
 couragement from this; but he silently fol- 
 lowed his cousin, who led the way at a rapid 
 gallop, riding over this swell, and turning 
 round that, as though he was perfectly 
 familiar with the ground over which they 
 were traveling. For two long hours they kept 
 on this way, almost without speaking, each 
 time they mounted a hill straining their eyes 
 in every direction, in the hope of discovering 
 the wagon. Sometimes they were almost cer- 
 tain they saw its white cover in the distance; 
 but upon taking a second look, it proved to 
 have been merely a creation of their imagina- 
 tion ; and Frank began to be discouraged. To
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 89 
 
 i 
 
 add to their discomfort, the heat was almost in- 
 tolerable, and they began to be tortured with 
 thirst. Their animals also appeared to be suf- 
 fering, for they paid less attention to the spur, 
 and were constantly jerking at the reins, and 
 endeavoring to go in a direction almost con- 
 trary to that which the boys desired. The 
 hours seemed lengthened into ages, and at 
 three o'clock in the afternoon they had seen no 
 signs of the wagon, and the mountains ap- 
 peared to be as far off as ever. 
 
 " There's no use talking," said Archie, at 
 length, reining in his horse, " I can't stand this 
 any longer, I'm so thirsty." 
 
 "But what else can we do?" asked Frank, 
 in a husky voice, for his tongue was so parched 
 that he could scarcely talk plainly. " We 
 can't find our friends, or water either, by stay- 
 ing here. We must go on." 
 
 As he spoke, he again spurred his horse into 
 a gallop, Archie, as before, following after 
 him, now and then looking down at the ante- 
 lope, which lay across his saddle and which
 
 9o Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 lie considered to be the cause of all their trou- 
 ble as though he heartily wished him safe 
 among the others of the herd. Two miles more 
 were passed, but still no signs of water. The 
 idea of finding the wagon had now given way 
 to a desire to discover some stream where they 
 might quench their thirst, which was becom- 
 ing almost unbearable. But the dry, parched 
 prairie stretched away on each side of them, 
 while in front loomed the mountains, appar- 
 ently as distant as when they started in the 
 morning. Their horses grew more and more 
 restive. Upon applying the spur, they would 
 gallop for a few yards, and then settle down 
 into a slow walk, turning their heads and 
 pulling at the reins as if anxious to go in a 
 contrary direction. This set Frank to think- 
 ing. He had often read of the remarkable 
 sagacity sometimes displayed by the horse 
 how the animal had been known to carry his 
 lost rider safely into the midst of his friends 
 and, turning to his cousin, he exclaimed : 
 " Archie, I'm going to let Pete take his own
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 91 
 
 course. Both the horses want to go back, so 
 let's see where they will take us to. We can't 
 be in a much worse fix than we are now." 
 
 As he spoke, he threw the reins on his 
 horse's neck, and the animal, finding himself 
 at liberty, at once turned, and, pricking up his 
 ears, galloped off exactly at right angles with 
 the course they had been pursuing. Archie, 
 too dispirited to raise any objections, followed 
 his cousin's example, and the old buffalo 
 hunter, which, during the last two hours, had 
 traveled with his head down, as if scarcely 
 able to take another step, snuffed the air and 
 bounded off at a rapid pace. For an hour the 
 animals tore along at a tremendous rate; but 
 
 
 
 discovering no signs of the wagon, Frank was 
 rapidly losing faith in the sagacity of his 
 horse, when, as they came suddenly around the 
 base of a swell, they found before them a 
 long line of willows. Toward this the animals 
 made their way with increased speed, carrying 
 their riders through the trees into a stream 
 of clear, running water.
 
 92 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE TRAPPER'S REMINISCENCE. 
 
 THE horses did not stop on the bank, but, in 
 spite of the desperate efforts of the boys, kept 
 on, until the water reached half way to their 
 backs. The old buffalo hunter, not satisfied 
 with this, persisted in lying down ; and Archie 
 and the antelope were deposited in the mid- 
 dle of the stream. Under any other circum- 
 stances, the young hunter would have been 
 angry; but, as it was, the cool bath was most 
 refreshing after his long ride over the dry 
 prairie, under the hot, scorching sun; so 
 seizing the antelope, he dragged him to the 
 shore, leaving his horse to take care of him- 
 self. 
 
 Thirsty as the boys were, they still retained
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 93 
 
 their presence of mind; instead of endanger- 
 ing his life by drinking freely of the water, 
 Archie contented himself with repeatedly 
 bathing his head, while Frank, who was still 
 in his saddle, reached down and scooped up a 
 few drops in his hand. 
 
 " I say, Frank, isn't this glorious? " said 
 Archie at length, as he divested himself of his 
 coat, which he hung upon a limb to dry. " But 
 it's lucky that my ammunition is water-proof. 
 If you had been in my fix, you wouldn't be able 
 to do much more shooting until we got back 
 to our wagon. I declare, it's getting dark. 
 AVhere do you suppose that wagon is? If we 
 don't find it inside of fifteen minutes, we shall 
 have to camp." 
 
 " Let's stay here," said Frank, as he rode 
 his horse out of the water, and fastened him 
 to a tree. " We must stay somewhere all 
 night, and this is as good a camping-ground as 
 we can find." 
 
 " If Dick or Bob was here," said Archie, 
 " I wouldn't mind it ; but I don't like the idea
 
 94 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 of our staying hero alone. This is the worst 
 scrape I was ever in; but if I once get along- 
 side of that wagon again, I'll stay there.'' 
 
 " Oh, you've been in worse scrapes than 
 this," said Frank, who saw that his cousin was 
 losing heart again. 
 
 " I'd like to know when and where? " said 
 Archie, looking up in astonishment. 
 
 " Why, you were in a much more dangerous 
 situation while you were hanging by that limb, 
 fifty feet from the ground, when you were 
 after that 'coon that led you such a long 
 chase." 
 
 " I can't see it," replied Archie. " I knew 
 that if I got down safe, I would be among 
 friends, and if I had to camp in the woods 
 there would be no Comanches or grizzly bears 
 waiting for a chance to jump down on me. I 
 say, Frank, there may be grizzly bears about 
 here," and Archie peered through the trees, 
 reaching rather hurriedly for his gun, as if 
 fully expecting to see one of those ferocious 
 animals advancing upon him. " But what are
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 95 
 
 you about? " he continued, as be saw Frank re- 
 moving the saddle from his horse. 
 
 " I'm getting ready to camp," replied Frank, 
 coolly. 
 
 Archie at first strongly objected to this, but 
 Frank finally carried the day, by assuring him 
 that is was the much better plan to " take mat- 
 ters easy," and wait for daylight, when they 
 would again set out. Besides, if they traveled 
 in the dark, they might go miles out of their 
 way. Archie, although not convinced, finally 
 agreed to his cousin's proposition, remarking: 
 
 "If you were in the fourth story of a burn- 
 ing house, I wonder if you wouldn't talk of 
 taking matters easy?'- 
 
 It was settled then that they should remain 
 where they were for the night, and they began 
 to make preparations accordingly. Archie's 
 horse was relieved of the saddle, and, after 
 both the animals had been led on to the 
 prairie, they were hobbled and left to graze. 
 Frank then began to skin and dress the buck, 
 while Archie gathered a supply of wood, and
 
 96 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 kindled a fire. In half an hour several slices 
 of venison were broiling on the coals, and the 
 boys were lying before the fire, talking over the 
 events of the day, and wondering what Dick 
 and Bob would say when they learned that 
 their " youngsters " had killed an antelope, 
 when they were startled by a well-known bark, 
 and the next moment Useless came bounding 
 through the trees into the very center of the 
 camp, where he frisked and jumped about with 
 every demonstration of joy. The boys had 
 scarcely recovered from their alarm, when 
 they heard a familiar voice exclaim : 
 
 "Bar an' buffaler! You keerless fellers!" 
 and the trapper came through the willows 
 with long, impatient strides. 
 
 The boys were always glad to see Dick, but 
 words are too feeble to express the joy they 
 felt at his sudden and wholly unexpected ap- 
 pearance. For a moment they seemed to have 
 lost the power of speech. 
 
 The trapper glanced hastily from one to the 
 other, took in at a glance the preparations for
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 97 
 
 the night, and, dropping the butt of his rifle 
 heavily to the ground, again ejaculated: 
 
 " You keerless fellers ! " 
 
 "What's the matter, Dick?" asked Archie, 
 whose spirits were now as exalted as they had 
 before been depressed. " We're all right. Sit 
 down and have some supper." 
 
 " Youngsters," said the trapper, seating 
 himself on the ground, and depositing his rifle 
 beside him, " I jest knowed I would find you 
 all right. Now, tell me whar have you been, 
 an' what a doin'?" 
 
 "Do you see that?" exclaimed Archie, 
 jumping up and pointing to the remains of the 
 antelope, which Frank had hung up on a tree. 
 " Do you see it? You said we couldn't kill a 
 prong-horn, but we've done it." 
 
 The boys then proceeded to recount their 
 adventures, telling the trapper how they had 
 killed the antelope, of their long ride under 
 the scorching sun, and how at last their 
 horses had brought them to the water to all 
 of which the trapper listened with amazement,
 
 98 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 and feelings of admiration that he could not 
 disguise. 
 
 " Wai," said he, when they had concluded, 
 " I won't tell you to try it over ag'in, 'cause 
 you can't allers be so lucky." 
 
 "What did uncle say?" inquired Archie, 
 who was rather apprehensive of a " lecture." 
 
 " Oh, he knowed as how thar war no Injuns 
 to massacre you, an' when we camped fur 
 noon, I heered him say, ' I wonder what the 
 boys have got fur dinner? ' I knowed me and 
 Useless could easy find you. That ar dog 
 knowed jest as well that I war arter you as I 
 did myself." 
 
 " Well," said Frank, " whenever you get 
 ready, we'll go back to the camp." 
 
 " To camp ! " repeated the trapper. " Hain't 
 you rid fur enough yet? Can you stand 
 ' twenty miles more to-night?" 
 
 " Twenty miles ! " echoed both the boys, in 
 surprise. 
 
 " Sartin ! You're further away from the ole 
 bar's hole now than you were last night."
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 99 
 
 The young hunters were astonished. Al- 
 though they had had the Rocky Mountains for 
 a guide-post, they had been completely turned 
 round, and had actually traveled ten miles 
 back toward St. Joseph. 
 
 " That's what comes of not knowin* nothin' 
 'bout the prairy ! " continued the trapper, help- 
 ing himself to a piece of the venison. " But 
 we'll stay h0re to-night, an' strike fur camp in 
 the mornin'." 
 
 The boys were very well satisfied with this 
 arrangement,, for their long ride had wearied 
 them, and Archie was willing to brave grizzly 
 bears, so long as he was in Dick's company. 
 
 After supper which consisted of venison, 
 without bread or coffee the trapper lighted 
 his pipe with a brand from the fire, and, set- 
 tling back on his elbow, said: 
 
 " I've seed the time, youngsters, when it 
 wouldn't a been healthy fur you two fellers 
 to be out here alone. I've seed that prairy 
 a'most black with Comanches, an' have heered 
 'em yellin' among these ere very willows. If
 
 ioo Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 you had been settin' whar you are now 'bout 
 fifteen year ago, you would have seed me 
 goin" through these trees, an' swimmin' that 
 ar creek, with a hul tribe of yellin' an' 
 screechin' red-skins clost to my heels. I 
 showed your uncle, this mornin', the very place 
 whar I onct run the gauntlet of more'n a hun- 
 dred Comanches. I tell you, youngsters, I 
 know every foot of this ground. Many a time 
 me an' poor ole Bill Lawson have skrimmaged 
 with the Injuns through here, when it war 
 inore'n a feller's har war wuth to come to this 
 creek arter a drink o' water. But I told you 
 'bout runnin' the gauntlet. The way it hap- 
 pened war this: 
 
 " 'Bout fifteen year ago, me an' ole Bill 
 Lawson war trappin' among the mountains, 
 twenty-five miles from the ole bar's hole. We, 
 in course, had fine sport, 'cause me an' ole Bill 
 allers knowed whar to go to find the best trap- 
 pin' grounds; an', by the time spring opened, 
 we had as much spelter as we could tote away 
 on our backs. It war gettin' purty nigh time
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 101 
 
 fur the Comanches to come round on their 
 spring hunt, an' we began to talk of leavin'; 
 but thar war plenty of beaver left in the valley, 
 an' we didn't like to go so long as thar war 
 any game to trap, so we kept puttin' it off, an* 
 when at last we did start, it war too late to get 
 off with our plunder. 
 
 " One mornin', jest at daylight, while I war 
 in front of the shantee cookin' my breakfast, 
 ole Bill come in from 'tendin' to his traps, an' 
 said: 
 
 " ' Dick, the valley's chuck full o' red-skins. 
 I jest seed more sign down by the creek than 
 I ever seed afore 'bout this place, an' that's 
 sayin' a good deal. We had better shoulder 
 our spelter an' be off to onct.' 
 
 " I didn't stop to think any more 'bout 
 breakfast jest then, but I ran into the shantee, 
 grabbed my furs, which I allers kept tied up 
 ready for a move, an' me an' ole Bill started 
 out. The Injuns must have come in durin' 
 the night, 'cause the day afore thar warn't a 
 bit of sign to be seed fur ten miles 'round the
 
 IO2 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 valley. But we didn't stop then to think ho\v 
 or when they got in, but how should we get 
 out. It warn't no easy thing to do, youngsters 
 to go through them mountains, swarmin' 
 with red-skins. They don't walk through the 
 woods like a feller does when he's squirrel 
 huntin', but they go sneakin' round, an' 
 listenin', an' peepin' ; an' if a chap don't under- 
 stand their natur, he'd better not go among 
 'em. 
 
 " Wai, ole Bill led the way, sometimes 
 a'most on his knees, his rifle in his hand, an' 
 his bundle of furs on his shoulder, I followin' 
 clost at his heels both of us keepin' our eyes 
 open, an' stoppin' now an' then to listen. We 
 had made 'bout a mile up the mountain in this 
 way, when, all to onct, ole Bill stopped and 
 looked straight before him. I stopped, too, 
 an' seed three big Comanches comin' along 
 easy like, lookin' at the ground, examinin' the 
 bushes, an' whisperin' to each other. They 
 Lad found a trail that either me or ole Bill had 
 made the day afore, an' war tryin' to foller it
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 103 
 
 up. But me an' the ole man warn't the ones 
 to leave a path that could be follered easy 
 when we thought thar war red-skins 'round; 
 an' I guess it bothered them rascals some to 
 tell which way we had gone, an' how many 
 thar war of us. But they did foller it up 
 slowly, an' while we war lookin' at 'em they 
 were jined by another Injun, who seemed to be 
 a chief, for he whispered a few orders, an' two 
 of the Comanches made off. They had been 
 sent to rouse the camp, an' we knowed that we 
 couldn't get away from that valley any too 
 fast. The red-skins war n't more'n a hundred 
 yards from us, an' we knowed it would take 
 mighty keerful movin' to get away from them 
 without bein' diskivered. But it war life or 
 death with us, an' we began to crawl slowly 
 through the bushes. A greenhorn couldn't 
 have heered a leaf rustle if he hadn't been two 
 foot from us; but thar's a heap of difference 
 atween a greenhorn's ears an' them that a 
 Injun carries. But they didn't hear us, fur as 
 long as we war in sight we seed them still fol-
 
 JO4 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 lerin' up the ole trail; an' as soon as we 
 thought we had got out of hearin' of them, we 
 jumped to our feet an' run like a pair of quar- 
 ter bosses We didn't make no more noise 
 than we could help, but we hadn't gone fur 
 afore the mountains echoed with the war- 
 whoop, an' a couple of arrers whizzed by our 
 heads. The Injuns had diskivered us. In 
 course, we both dropped like a flash of 
 lightnin', an', while I war lookin' round to 
 find the varlets, ole Bill struck out his hand, 
 say in' : 
 
 " ' This is a bad scrape, Dick, an' mebbe me 
 an' you have done our last trappin' together. 
 But we mustn't get ketched if we can help it, 
 'cause we couldn't look fur nothin' but the 
 stake.' 
 
 " While the ole man war speakin', I seed one 
 of the rascals that had shot at us peepin' out 
 from behind a log. He didn't show more'n 
 two inches of his head, but that war enough, 
 an' I reckon that red-skin lay thar till his 
 friends toted him off. Jest the minit I fired,
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 105 
 
 ole Bill throwed down his furs, jumped to his 
 feet, an' run, an' I done the same, although I 
 did hate to leave that spelter that I had 
 worked so hard fur all winter. But, in course, 
 thar war no help fur it. Thar war plenty 
 more beaver in the mountains, an', if I got safe 
 off, I knowed whar to go to find 'em; but if I 
 lost my scalp, I couldn't get another. So, as 
 I war say in', I put arter the ole man, an' jest 
 then I heered something 'sides a arrer sing by 
 my head. It war a bullet, an' the chap that 
 sent it warn't sich a bad shot neither; fur, if 
 I had the ole 'coon-skin cap I wore then, I 
 could show you whar a piece of it war cut out. 
 I didn't stop to look fur the feller, howsom- 
 ever, but kept on arter ole Bill, loadin' my rifle 
 as I ran. The woods war so thick we couldn't 
 keep clost together, an' I soon lost sight of 
 him ; but that didn't skeer me, fur I knowed he 
 could take keer of his own bacon. As fur my- 
 self, I never yet seed the Injun, or white man 
 either, that could ketch me, if I onct got a 
 leetle start of him ; an' if all the Injuns in the
 
 io6 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 mountains war behind me, I could laugh at 
 'em. But thar war some in front of me, as I 
 found out afore I had gone fur. I had jest got 
 my rifle loaded, an' war settlin' down to my 
 work makin' purty good time, I reckon, the 
 Injuns behind me yellin' an' hootin' all the 
 while when, all to onct, up jumped about a 
 dozen more of the rascals. 
 
 " I didn't stop to ax no questions, but sent 
 the nighest of 'em down in a hurry; but in a 
 minit arterward I war down, too; an' when I 
 war pulled to my pins ag'in, I war a pris'ner, 
 my hands bein' bound behind me with hickory 
 bark. It warn't a pleasant sight I seed, young- 
 sters, as I stood thar, lookin' at them scowl in' 
 Injuns. At that day thar war few of them Co- 
 manches that didn't know me an' ole Bill, an' 
 when they seed who I war, they all set up a 
 yell, an' began dancin' 'round me like mad, 
 shakin' their tomahawks, an' pintin' their rifles 
 an' arrers at me; an' one feller ketched me by 
 the har, an' passed his knife 'round my head, 
 as though he had half a notion to scalp me to
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 107 
 
 onct. They kept goin' on in this way until the 
 Injuns in that part of the woods had come up 
 to see what 'the fuss war 'bout; an' they, too, 
 had to go through the same motions. All to 
 onct they happened to think of ole Bill. The 
 chief set up a shout, an' all but four of the 
 Injuns put off on his trail. It showed me, 
 plain enough, that the rascals war afraid of 
 me, when they left so many to guard me. But 
 no four of them Comanches would have 
 stopped me from gettin' away if I could have 
 got my hands free. I tell you, I done my best, 
 makiu' that tough hickory bark crack an' snap, 
 but it war no go I was fast. As soon as the 
 others war out of sight, one big feller ketched 
 me by the har, an' begun to pull me t'wards 
 the camp. 
 
 " He didn't help me along very easy, but 
 dragged me over logs an' through bushes, as 
 if he meant to pull my head off, while the other 
 fellers, findin' nothin' else to do, follered be- 
 hind with switches, that cut through my old 
 huntm'-shirt like a knife. At last, arter they
 
 io8 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 Lad got me purty well thrashed, we reached 
 the camp, which war jest at the foot of the 
 mountains I'll show you the place in the 
 mornin' an' here they stood me up ag'in a 
 post. Then I ketched it from everybody 
 men, women, an' young ones. The most of the 
 braves war still out arter the old man, an' I 
 could easy tell by the way they whooped an' 
 yelled that they hadn't ketched him. I 
 knowed they wouldn't get him, neither, unless 
 they surrounded him like they did me. 
 
 " Wai, arter tormentin' me fur a long time, 
 an' findin' that I didn't keer fur 'em, the In- 
 juns finally let me alone; an' one ole dried-up 
 squaw brought me a piece of buffaler meat. 
 They wouldn't untie my hands, but that ole 
 woman sot thar on the ground, an' fed me like 
 I war a baby. I eat a heap of that meat, 'cause 
 I war hungry, an' if I got a chance to have a 
 race with the varlets, I didn't want to run on 
 an empty stomach; 'sides I might have to go 
 without eatin' fur two or three days afore I 
 could find ole Bill. Jest afore dark the braves
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 109 
 
 began to come in, one arter the other. They 
 hadn't ketched the ole man, an' I could see, by 
 the way they scowled at me, that I would have 
 to stand punishment for his deeds, an' my own 
 into the bargain. I could have yelled, when I 
 knowed the ole feller war safe, an' I made up 
 my mind that if the Injuns would only give me 
 half a chance, I'd soon be with him ag'in. 
 
 " Wai, when the chiefs come in, I war tied 
 fast to the post, and left thar. They didn't try 
 to skeer me any more, 'cause they seed it war 
 no use, an' 'sides, they wanted to save all their 
 spite fur the mornin', fur it war too late to be- 
 gin business that night. I war fast enough 
 as fast as if I had been wrapped up in chains 
 but them Injuns war afraid to trust me. 
 they actooally kept half a dozen of their 
 braves watchin' me, from the time it began to 
 grow dark till daylight the next mornin'. I 
 didn't sleep very easy, fur I war stand! n' ag'in 
 that post, an' the bark they had tied me with 
 war drawed so tight that it cut into my arms; 
 but I made out to git a nap or two, an' when
 
 no Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 mornin' come, an' I had eat another big chunk 
 of that buffaler meat, I war ready fur 'em to 
 begin. 
 
 " As soon as the sun war up, the chief called 
 a council. It didn't take 'em long to say what 
 should be done with me, fur sooner that I had 
 thought fur, one of the chiefs set up a yelp, 
 which war answered by the hul tribe, an' men, 
 women, an' children began form in' themselves 
 into two lines, with whips, clubs, tomahawks, 
 or whatever else they could ketch hold of; an' 
 two fellers come up to set me free. I war to 
 run the gauntlet. I tell you, youngsters, if 
 thar is anything that will make the bar rise on 
 a feller's head, it is fur him to stand an' look 
 atween two lines sich as I saw that mornin'. 
 It warn't the fust time I had been in jest sich 
 scrapes, an' I knowed, too, that the Injuns 
 didn't mean to kill me then they wanted to 
 save me for the stake but somehow I couldn't 
 help feelin' shaky. I didn't let the Injuns 
 see it, howsomever, but tightened my belt, 
 stretched my arms, an', walkin' out in front
 
 Frank on the Prairie. in 
 
 of the lines, waited fur the word to start. The 
 head of the line war t'wards the camp, an' at 
 the foot, which war t'wards this creek, stood 
 five or six big fellers, waitin' to ketch me when 
 I come out. 
 
 " Wai, it didn't take me long to see how the 
 land lay, an' when the chief yelled to let me 
 know that the time had come, I started. The 
 way I traveled through 'em lines war a thing 
 fur 'em Comanches to look at. I got plenty of 
 clips as I passed, but this war the only one 
 that hurt me." 
 
 As the trapper spoke, he bared his brawny 
 shoulder, and showed the boys a long, ragged 
 scar. The wound must have been a most 
 severe one. 
 
 " That one," continued Dick, " war made by 
 a tomahawk. It didn't hinder my runnin', 
 howsomever, an' I warn't half a minit comin' 
 to the end of 'em lines. But when I got thar 
 I didn't stop. The Injuns that war waitin' 
 thar, tried to ketch me, but I passed them like 
 a streak of lightnin', an' drawed a bee-line fur
 
 ii2 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 this creek. In course the hul camp war arter 
 me at onct ; but I knowed that I war safe, fur 
 all the Injuns war behind me, an' I wouldn't 
 have been afraid to run a race with a hoss. I 
 didn't do as well as I had done afore, nor nigh 
 as well as I could do now, fur I war stiff an' 
 lame from bein' tied up so long; but I run 
 plenty fast enough to git away. As I told you, 
 I run through these willows, swam the creek 
 which war wide an' deep then, on 'count of 
 the snow an' ice meltin' then tuk to the 
 mountains, an' started to make a circle round 
 to the ole bar's hole. I traveled in every little 
 stream I could find ; walked on logs, an' on the 
 second day, found ole Bill. The ole feller had 
 been mighty down-hearted since I war ketched 
 fur the yells of the Injuns plainly told him 
 what had become of me an' had never ex- 
 pected to take me by the hand ag'in. But, 
 when he seed me safe an' sound, he sot 
 right down on the ground an' cried like a 
 child. 
 
 " Wai, we lay 'round the ole bar's hole till
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 113 
 
 the Injuns had gone, an' then set out fur the 
 fort. We war on foot, an' had but one rifle 
 ntween us, but we got through all right, an' 
 in less'n a month, war on our way to the moun- 
 tains ag'in."
 
 ii4 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE " OLE BAR>S HOLE." 
 
 NEXT morning, after a hasty breakfast, the 
 boys saddled their horses, and, led by the trap- 
 per, set out to find the wagon. Now it was 
 that the latter showed the young hunters his 
 extraordinary " travelin' qualities," as he ex- 
 pressed it ; for as soon as the boys were in their 
 saddles, he shouldered his rifle and started off, 
 at a rapid pace, which he did not slacken at all 
 until they arrived on the banks of a small 
 stream, where they stopped to quench their 
 thirst. 
 
 " Now, youngsters," said the trapper, seat- 
 ing himself on the ground, and wiping his 
 forehead with his coat sleeve, " There's the 
 place. The Comanche's camp war pitched jest
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 115 
 
 in the edge of them ar' willows, an' right where 
 you see them bushes war where I stood afore I 
 started to run the gauntlet. The chief's wig- 
 v.r.m stood thar then. I tell you, it warn't 
 healthy fur a feller to go foolin' 'round here 
 them days." 
 
 The boys gazed long and earnestly at every 
 object the trapper pointed out, and listened to 
 his narration of the various incidents that had 
 transpired during his captivity, until they al- 
 most fancied they could see the prairie covered 
 with painted savages, and their guide, in the 
 midst of his foes, awaiting the signal to begin 
 his race for life. Dick, himself, was no less in- 
 terested, for he sat for a long time feasting his 
 eyes on every familiar object; now and then 
 casting suspicious glances toward the distant 
 willows, as if he almost expected to catch a 
 glimpse of a hostile warrior, or hear the war- 
 whoop which had so often awoke the echoes of 
 those very mountains. 
 
 " Wai, youngsters," said he, at length, " let's 
 be movin'! I never expected to see the time
 
 n6 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 when I could travel over these ere prairies 
 without bein' in danger of havin' my bar 
 raised ; an' if you live to be as old as I am, 
 you'll see the day that 'em city chaps will ride 
 through here on 'em steam railroads; an' if 
 they see this place, they'll never dream that 
 such things as I have told you about ever hap- 
 pened here." 
 
 The travelers again set out, Dick leading the 
 way, at a still more rapid pace, and in two 
 hours they arrived at the camp. Mr. Winters 
 and old Bob were lying in the shade of the 
 wagon, and as the boys approached, the former 
 raised himself on his elbow, and inquired: 
 
 " Well, boys, how. do you like traveling on 
 your own hook? J)o you think you could find 
 your way to California without a guide? " 
 
 " Oh, they war all right ! " exclaimed Dick, 
 leaning his rifle against the wagon, and pick- 
 ing up the antelope skin which Archie had 
 thrown down, and which contained some 
 choice pieces of meat. " They war all right ! 
 Me and Useless found 'em down on Muddy
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 117 
 
 Creek, Bob. They had killed this prong-horn, 
 made their camp, an' war taking' matters easy 
 like, as though they had never heered tell on 
 a Comanche the keerless fellers." 
 
 While Frank and Archie were unsaddling 
 their horses, the trapper proceeded to recount 
 their adventures, to which both Mr. Winters 
 and old Bob listened attentively. The latter 
 was not a little astonished to learn that the 
 boys could so readily accommodate themselves 
 to circumstances, and was more firm than ever 
 in his belief that " the youngsters would make 
 good trappers." 
 
 Mr. Winters had, at first, been considerably 
 alarmed at their absence ; but, upon reflection, 
 he remembered that the boys had often been in 
 positions fully as dangerous, from which they 
 had always succeeded in extricating them- 
 selves, and he soon fell in with the trap- 
 per's opinion, that they would " turn up all 
 right." He did not think it necessary to cau- 
 tion them, for, from the description the trap- 
 per gave of their adventures, it was not at all
 
 n8 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 probable that they would ever again be placed 
 in a like situation. 
 
 After a hearty dinner, which Dick speedily 
 served up, they again set out toward the moun- 
 tains, which they reached about the middle of 
 the afternoon. After riding along the edge of 
 the willows, for half a mile, they came to a 
 wide but very shallow stream, into which the 
 trapper turned, and after following it for some 
 distance, drove out on the bank and stopped. 
 
 " Here we are," said he, as he climbed down 
 out of his wagon. " Now, youngsters, you're 
 at the ole bar's hole. But if you didn't know it 
 war here, you might hunt fur it till your bar 
 war whiter nor Bob's, an' then you wouldn't 
 find it, an' that wouldn't be no wonder neither ; 
 fur many a sharp-eyed Comanche has looked 
 an' peeped fur it, but only one ever found it 
 that I know of, an' it didn't do him no good, 
 fur he never lived to tell of it." 
 
 While the trapper was speaking, old Bob 
 had dismounted from his horse, and, walking 
 up to a thicket of bushes which grew at the
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 119 
 
 foot of a high rock that overhung the bed of 
 the stream, began pulling them aside, and 
 finally disclosed to view an opening that ap- 
 peared to lead down into the very bowels of 
 the earth. Meanwhile, Dick had gathered 
 some dry wood for a torch, and, after lighting 
 it, he backed down into the hole and disap- 
 peared, followed by Frank and Archie, who 
 were impatient to see the inside of the cave 
 which had so often served the guide as a secure 
 retreat from his enemies. The passage was 
 long and winding, and it was with considerable 
 difficulty that the boys worked their way into 
 it. Besides, it was in some places so narrow 
 that they could scarcely squeeze themselves 
 through it. The trapper, however, worked his 
 way along with a celerity that was surprising, 
 and soon both he and the torch were out of 
 sight, and the boys were left in pitch darkness. 
 But there was little danger of their being lost 
 in that narrow passage, and they crawled along 
 as rapidly as possible, until at length Archie, 
 who was leading the way, stopped, and began
 
 I2O Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 \ 
 
 to rub his elbows and knees, which had re- 
 ceived some pretty severe scratches from -the 
 sharp rocks. 
 
 " I say, Frank," he exclaimed, " how do you 
 suppose Dick ever squeezed his broad shoul- 
 ders through a narrow place like this? What's 
 that?" he added, in a terrified voice, as they 
 heard a savage growl, which seemed to sound 
 directly over their heads. 
 
 Frank did not stop to answer, but throwing 
 himself on his hands and knees, began to make 
 the best of his way out of the passage, closely 
 followed by his cousin, who urged him to go 
 faster. They had not gone far when they were 
 startled by the report of a rifle, which was 
 followed by a roar that echoed and re-echoed 
 through the cave like a heavy clap of thunder. 
 What it was that had uttered that roar the 
 boys were unable to determine ; but they knew, 
 by the report of the trapper's rifle, and the 
 sounds of a fierce struggle that came faintly to 
 their ears, that Dick hadfound his old harbor- 
 ing-place occupied by some animal which did
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 121 
 
 not feel disposed to give up possession; and 
 they got out of the passage in much less time 
 than it had taken them to get into it. When 
 they reached the open air, the old trapper, who 
 had heard the report of his " chum's " rifle, 
 threw himself on his hands and knees, and 
 crawled into the cave, followed by Mr. Win- 
 ters. The hoys at once ran to the wagon after 
 their weapons, but by the time they had 
 secured them, the fight was ended, and Dick 
 made his appearance at the mouth of the pas- 
 sage. But he did not look like the man who 
 had gone into that cave but a few moments 
 before. His hunting-shirt and leggins were 
 torn almost into shreds, his arms were bare 
 to his shoulders, and were covered with 
 wounds that were bleeding profusely. The 
 boys were horrified; but their fears that the 
 
 trapper had received serious injury were speed- 
 
 / 
 
 ily set at rest, for he smiled as if nothing had 
 happened, and exclaimed : 
 
 " Now you see what it is to be a trapper, 
 youngsters. I shall allers think that 'ar cave
 
 122 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 has a good name, fur if me an' Useless didn't 
 find the biggest grizzly bar in thar we ever sot 
 eyes on, then thar ain't no more beaver in the 
 Missouri River." 
 
 As he spoke, he divested himself of what 
 remained of his hunting-shirt, and walked 
 down to the creek to wash the blood off his 
 hands and face, in which he was assisted by 
 Mr. Winters. While this was going on, old 
 Bob crawled out of the cave, carrying two 
 cubs in his arms, which he presented to the 
 boys, saying : 
 
 " Them's young grizzlies. They don't look 
 now as if they would ever get to be as big and 
 fierce as their mother war." 
 
 As the boys took them, they both set up a 
 shrill cry, and fought most desperately for 
 such small animals, and their sharp little 
 claws left more than one mark upon the hands 
 and faces of the young hunters. 
 
 " Keep an eye open, Bob," shouted Dick, 
 who was seated on the ground, while Mr. 
 Winters was bandaging his wounds. " Keep
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 123 
 
 an' eye open, 'cause the old man of the family 
 may be 'round." 
 
 Upon hearing this, Archie dropped his cub, 
 and seizing his rifle, cast anxious glances upon 
 the surrounding woods. But if the father was 
 in the vicinity, he evidently thought it best to 
 keep out of sight. 
 
 When Dick's wounds had been cared for, 
 and he had put on another suit of clothes, he 
 seated himself on the ground, near the boys, 
 while Bob kindled a fire and began prepara- 
 tions for supper. 
 
 " It ain't allers fun to be a trapper, young- 
 sters," said Dick, puffing away at his pipe, 
 " 'cause, afore a man can earn that name, he's 
 got to go through a heap of skrimmages, like 
 the one I jest had. When I'm on the prairy, 
 or in the mountains, I allers keep my eyes 
 open, an' the fust thing I seed as I crawled 
 out of that passage into that ar' cave war that 
 grizzly bar. She seed me, too, and set up a 
 growl, as if to tell me that I couldn't get away 
 from thar any too quick; but she didn't wink
 
 124 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 niore'n twice afore I sent a chunk of lead into 
 her. The light of the torch, however, bothered 
 me, an' I didn't shoot atween her eyes, as I 
 meant to; an' afore a feller could say ' Gin'ral 
 Jackson,' she war comin' at me. Now, I've 
 been in jest such scrapes afore, an' the way I've 
 got pawed up, an' seed other fellers that were 
 bigger and stronger than me, clawed an' torn, 
 Las showed me that no one man that ever lived 
 is a match for a full-grown grizzly ; an' when I 
 seed ole Bob poke his rifle out of the passage 
 an' draw a bead on that bar's head, I'll allow 
 it made me feel a heap easier. If he had stayed 
 away five minits longer, I don't believe I'd ever 
 showed you the way to Californy. As it war, 
 I got pretty well clawed up." 
 
 This was the way the trapper described the 
 fight in the cave, which was one of the most 
 desperate he had ever engaged in, as the severe 
 wounds he had received proved. But he looked 
 upon such things as a matter of course. He 
 expected to be engaged in many similar fights ; 
 always held himself in readiness for them, and
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 125 
 
 when they were over, another notch was added 
 to those on the handle of his knife (for Dick 
 kept a strict account of the number of grizzlies 
 he killed,) and he had another story to tell by 
 the camp-fire. 
 
 After supper, the trappers procured torches, 
 and, accompanied by Mr. Winters and the 
 boys, proceeded to explore the cave. There, 
 lying where she had fallen in defense of her 
 young, was the grizzly, which was the first of 
 these animals the boys had ever seen. As near 
 as they could judge, she was fully twice the 
 size and weight of the bear Frank had killed 
 in the woods, and her claws, which she had 
 used with such effect upon the trapper and his 
 dog, (for, in defending his master, Useless had 
 been most roughly handled,) measured eight 
 inches in length. Everything in the cave bore 
 evidence to the fact that the fight had been a 
 severe one. The floor and walls were covered 
 with blood, and on the bear's body were numer- 
 ous wounds, made by the knife of the trap- 
 per, and the teeth of the faithful Useless.
 
 126 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 After the boys had examined the bear to 
 their satisfaction, old Bob began to remove the 
 skin, while Dick pointed out other objects of 
 interest in the cave. There were the withered 
 hemlock boughs which had many a time served 
 him and Bill Lawson for a bed, and under them 
 was a hole about two feet square, which the 
 trapper called his " pantry." He told Mr. 
 Winters the story of the " struggle in the 
 cave,'' and showed him the passage that led to 
 the top of the hill where the Comanches had 
 entered, and where he had for two days kept 
 watch, awaiting the coming of old Bill. 
 
 They remained in the cave for an hour, lis- 
 tening to Dick's stories; for in his mind the 
 " Ole Bar's Hole " was associated with many 
 exciting events, and it was dark before they 
 returned to the camp.
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 127 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 ARCHIE'S ADVENTURE WITH A GRIZZLY. 
 
 ON the following morning the boys, as usual, 
 were up with the sun, impatient to try their 
 skill on the big game, with which the woods 
 abounded. The trapper, who, during his fight 
 in the cave, had received wounds that would 
 have prostrated an ordinary man, was already 
 stirring, and, having attended to his mules, 
 was moving about as lively as ever, preparing 
 the morning meal. In a few moments their 
 breakfast was cooked and eaten, and, after 
 hanging their provisions on the trees, out of 
 reach of any wild beast that might find his way 
 into camp during their absence, they shoul- 
 dered their rifles and followed the trappers 
 into the forest. Here they divided into two
 
 128 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 parties, Mr. Winters going with old Bob, and 
 the boys accompanying Dick. 
 
 " Now, youngsters," said the latter almost in 
 a whisper, " we hain't huntin' squirrels. 
 We're arter bigger game. I don't s'pose you 
 keer 'bout tacklin' a grizzly bar arter seein' me 
 pawed up the way I war last night; so if you 
 happen to come acrost one of them varmints, 
 you needn't mind shootin' at him. Thar's 
 plenty other game, an' what we want to find 
 now ar' a big-horn. That's an animal, I 
 reckon, you never seed. Go easy, now, 'cause 
 they've got ears like a painter's, an' noses 
 sharper nor hounds." 
 
 So saying, the trapper led the way through a 
 narrow ravine that lay between two mountains, 
 whose tops seemed to pierce the clouds. The 
 ravine, being thickly covered with bushes and 
 logs, rendered their progress slow and tedious, 
 and the boys, who could not help thinking 
 what a fine hiding-place it would afford for a 
 bear or panther, often cast uneasy glances 
 about them, and kept as close to the trapper
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 129 
 
 as possible. After they had gone about half a 
 mile, the latter suddenly stopped and said: 
 
 " If these yere trees could talk, a'most every 
 one of 'era would have a story to tell you 'bout 
 me an' ole Bill Lawson, 'cause we've often 
 come through this gully when it war chuck full 
 of Comanches. You 'member I onct told you 
 'bout waitin' at the ole bar's hole fur him, an' 
 that the ole feller had hid the black mustang 
 in the bushes ! Wai, here's the very spot." 
 
 As the trapper spoke, he pushed his way into 
 a dense thicket, and showed the boys the 
 sapling to which the old man had tied the 
 horse. 
 
 " Wai, that ar' animal," continued Dick, 
 " stood here fur two hours quiet an' still as a 
 mouse, an' we tuk him out an' got safe off with- 
 out the varlets bein' the wiser fur it. All the 
 way through here we could hear 'em talkin' to 
 each other, an' Look thar, youngsters, 
 quick ! " 
 
 Before the boys could look up to see what 
 had attracted the trapper's attention, the
 
 130 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 sharp report of his rifle rung through the gully, 
 and a queer-looking animal came tumbling 
 down the mountain, landing almost at their 
 feet. Far up above the tree tops they saw the 
 remainder of the flock bound over the rocks 
 and disappear. 
 
 " That's a sheep," said the trapper, hastily 
 reloading his rifle. " He'll make a fust rate 
 dinner, an', if we keep our eyes open, we may 
 get another." 
 
 The game did bear a close resemblance to 
 sheep, the only difference being his enormous 
 horns, which looked altogether too large and 
 heavy for so small an animal to carry. But 
 the trapper did not allow them to closely ex- 
 amine their prize, for he exclaimed : 
 
 " If we want more of 'em fellers, we mustn't 
 waste no time. But, fust, we must separate, 
 'cause the further apart we get, the more likely 
 we are to have a shot at 'em. Are you afraid 
 to stay here, little un? " 
 
 " Of course not," replied Archie, quickly. 
 
 " Wai, then, keep your eyes up the mountain,
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 131 
 
 an' if you see 'em ag'in, blaze away. Come on, 
 Frank. I'll show you whar to stand." 
 
 The latter moved off with Dick, and Archie 
 was left to himself. After examining the game 
 to his satisfaction, he took up a position where 
 he could obtain a good view of the side of the 
 mountain, leaned back against a tree, and im- 
 patiently waited for the re-appearance of the 
 big-horns. In front of him ran a deer path, 
 hard and well-beaten as any road. It was, no 
 doubt, used as a highway by animals traveling 
 through the ravine; and Archie now and then 
 directed his gaze up and down the path, in 
 hopes he might discover some game in that 
 direction. 
 
 He had remained in this position for nearly 
 half an hour, when he did see an animal com- 
 ing leisurely down the path, about fifty yards 
 from him. It was an enormous grizzly bear. 
 It did not appear to have determined upon any- 
 thing in particular, for it approached very 
 slowly, stopping every few feet to snuff the air, 
 and finally seated itself on its haunches, and
 
 132 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 proceeded to wash its paws and face, after the 
 manner of a house cat. Archie had a good 
 view of it. It was nearly as large as the one 
 the trapper had killed in the cave, and the sight 
 of its powerful claws, and the frightful array 
 of teeth it exhibited, made the young hunter 
 shudder. He had not been expecting so for- 
 midable a visitor, and to say that he was fright- 
 ened would but feebly express his feelings. He 
 had presence of mind enough, however, to move 
 behind his tree, out of sight ; but still he could 
 not remove his eyes from the animal, neither 
 could he determine upon any plan to extricate 
 himself from his unpleasant situation. The 
 grizzly had not yet discovered him, and Archie 
 had his wits about him sufficiently to note the 
 fact, that what little wind there was, was blow- 
 ing from the bear toward himself. For fully 
 five minutes it seemed much longer to Archie 
 the grizzly sat in the path, sometimes look- 
 ing lazily about him, and then licking his jaws 
 like a dog that had just enjoyed a good meal; 
 and for the same length of time did the young
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 133 
 
 hunter remain behind his tree watching his 
 movements, and wondering what course he 
 could pursue to rid himself of his dangerous 
 neighbor. It was not at all probable that the 
 bear would remain in that position until the 
 trapper returned. What if he should take it 
 into his head to come further down the path? 
 Archie would certainly be discovered, for the 
 path ran close by the tree, behind which he was 
 concealed, and what would the bear do then? 
 It was something he did not like to think 
 about. He knew, from what he had heard the 
 trapper say, that the grizzly's disposition is 
 very different from that of the black bear. 
 The latter, unless rendered desperate by hun- 
 ger, will generally take to his heels at the 
 sight of a human being; but the grizzly looks 
 upon all who invade his dominions as enemies, 
 and believes in punishing them accordingly. 
 
 These thoughts passed rapidly through 
 Archie's mind, and in a moment more his re- 
 solve was taken. Keeping his eyes fastened on 
 the bear, he cautiously raised his hand above
 
 134 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 his bead, and, to his joy, found that he could 
 easily reach the lowest limbs of the tree, and 
 that they were strong enough to sustain his 
 weight. But it was not his intention to leave 
 the grizzly in peaceable possession of the field ; 
 for, as soon as he had satisfied himself that he 
 had found a way of escape, he cocked his rifle 
 and cautiously raised it to his shoulder. He 
 was trembling violently, but at length he suc- 
 ceeded in quieting his nerves sufficiently to 
 cover the bear's head with the sight and pull 
 the trigger. The grizzly, however, arose to his 
 feet just as Archie fired, and the ball, instead 
 of finding a lodgment in his brain, entered his 
 shoulder. It brought him to the ground, and 
 Archie caught one glimpse of him struggling 
 in the path, and heard his growls of rage 
 and pain, as he dropped his rifle and swung 
 himself into the lowest branches of the 
 tree. 
 
 It was evident that the bear meant to take 
 ample revenge on him, for Archie heard him 
 coming up the path. But he knew that the
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 135 
 
 grizzly could not climb, and, after settling him- 
 self among the branches, he looked down at his 
 enemy in perfect security. The bear knew 
 where he had gone, for he ran directly to the 
 foot of the tree, and, after smelling at the rifle 
 and pawing it out of his way, he began walking 
 up and down the path, all the while uttering 
 those terrific growls, that made the young 
 hunter tremble. 
 
 At this moment Archie heard the report of a 
 rifle far up the mountain, which was quickly 
 followed by another that sounded nearer. 
 Then came a crashing in the bushes, as the big- 
 horns fled before the hunters, and Archie heard 
 his companions shouting to him: 
 
 " Look out, down there," said Frank ; 
 " they're running directly toward you, 
 Archie." 
 
 " Keep your eyes open, youngster," chimed 
 in Dick. " Don't let 'em go by you." 
 
 But Archie was not in a situation to inter- 
 cept them, and he heard the big-horns dash 
 across the ravine and bound up the mountain
 
 136 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 on the opposite side closely followed by the 
 dog, which barked fierce and loud at every 
 jump. 
 
 " Archie, why don't you shoot? " again 
 shouted Frank, his voice sounding as though 
 he was coming down the mountain. 
 
 " I can't," answered Archie. " Look out ! 
 Don't come down here. I'm treed by a 
 grizzly." 
 
 "By a grizzly?" repeated Frank, in aston- 
 ishment. " Has he hurt you? " 
 
 " No," shouted Archie, from his tree, " I am 
 all right; but I hurt him, I guess. Look out, 
 Frank ! he's going toward you." 
 
 This was a fact. The grizzly had stood per- 
 fectly still under the tree, listening to the 
 sounds of the chase, until, finding that he could 
 not reach Archie, he determined to revenge 
 himself upon someone else. He had not gone 
 far before Useless, having overtaken and killed 
 a big-horn that his master had wounded, came 
 up, and, discovering the grizzly, instantly gave 
 chase. The bear, maddened by the pain of his
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 137 
 
 wound, advanced with open mouth to meet 
 him; but the dog, easily eluding his attacks, 
 kept him busy until the trapper arrived, and 
 put an end to the fight by shooting the bear 
 through the head. Archie had watched the 
 struggle from his perch, and, seeing that the 
 grizzly was dead, he came down out of his 
 tree, feeling very much relieved. 
 
 " You keerless feller ! " exclaimed the trap- 
 per, " didn't I tell you not to mind shootin' at 
 a grizzly bar? " 
 
 By this time Frank had come up with a big- 
 horn on his shoulder, and, after having re- 
 gained his rifle, Archie gave them an account 
 of what had transpired. 
 
 " Wai," said the trapper, " it war keerless 
 to go a foolin' with a bar that ar' way. "Now, 
 you stay here, an' I'll go an' get that big-horn 
 that Useless killed." 
 
 The dog, as if understanding what was said, 
 led his master to the place where he had left 
 the game. When the trapper returned, he re- 
 moved the skin of the grizzly, intending to
 
 138 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 cure it, and give it to Archie to remember his 
 " keerlessness by " as he said. After which, 
 they shouldered their game and returned to 
 camp.
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 139 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 HANGING A BEAR. 
 
 WHEN they arrived at the wagon, they found 
 Mr. Winters and old Bob eating their dinner. 
 Although not as fortunate as Dick's party, 
 they had not returned empty-handed, for the 
 old trapper had killed a big-horn, and Mr. 
 Winters had knocked over a large gray wolf. 
 Thinking that Frank might want the skin of 
 the latter to mount in his museum, he had 
 taken it off very carefully, and stretched it on 
 a frame to dry. 
 
 Archie's adventure with the grizzly was duly 
 discussed, and, for an hour after dinner, the 
 boys sat by the fire listening to the trapper's 
 stories. But they could not long endure this 
 inactivity there was " no fun in it," as Archie
 
 140 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 said so they saddled their horses and set out 
 for a ride over the prairie. They were not 
 after game this time. If they had been, it is 
 not at all probable they would have discovered 
 any, for they raced their horses over the swells, 
 and shouted loud enough to frighten all the 
 animals for a mile around. About the middle 
 of the afternoon they grew tired of their ride, 
 and turned their horses toward the camp. As 
 they rode slowly along, about half a mile from 
 the willows that skirted the base of the moun- 
 tains, Archie, who, as usual, was leading the 
 way, suddenly drew up his horse, exclaim- 
 ing: 
 
 " See there, Frank ! There's another of the 
 varmints ! " 
 
 Frank looked toward the willows, and saw 
 a large, grizzly bear, seated on his haunches, 
 regarding them as if not at all concerned about 
 their approach. 
 
 " We're safe now, Archie," said he, as soon 
 as he had satisfied himself that the bear had 
 not the slightest intention of seeking safety in
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 141 
 
 flight. " A grizzly can't outrun a horse, so let's 
 shoot at that fellow." 
 
 " I I believe I'd rather not meddle with 
 him," answered his cousin, shrugging his 
 shoulders. " I say, let him alone if he let's us 
 alone. What if our horses should get fright- 
 ened and throw us? Wouldn't we be in a fix? 
 But I'll shoot at him from here." 
 
 " Why, it's too far," said Frank. " I am 
 going up nearer." As he spoke, he put his 
 horse into a gallop and rode toward the bear, 
 which was still seated in the edge of the wil- 
 lows. Archie did not at all like the idea of 
 provoking a fight with the animal; but, after 
 a moment's hesitation, he followed his cousin. 
 There might be no danger after all, he thought, 
 for that bear certainly could not catch Sleepy 
 Sam. The grizzly still kept his seat, closely 
 watching the movements of the hunters, and 
 once or twice he seemed inclined to advance 
 on them; but, after walking a few steps, he 
 again seated himself, as if to await their ap- 
 proach.
 
 142 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 The boys had gone but a short distance, 
 when their horses discovered the animal, and 
 Pete at once stopped, and refused to go any 
 further. He had evidently had some experi- 
 ence in bear hunting, for the sight of the 
 animal seemed to terrify him. Words had 
 more effect than the spurs, for when Frank 
 spoke encouragingly to him, he would advance 
 a few steps, and then, as if suddenly recalling 
 his former experience, he would hastily re- 
 treat. In this way, he succeeded in getting 
 further and further away from the bear, in- 
 stead of going toward it. Archie now took 
 the lead, in hopes that his cousin could induce 
 his horse to follow the old buffalo hunter ; but 
 Pete utterly refused to go any nearer, and 
 Frank at length dismounted and prepared to 
 risk a shot at the bear at long range. The ani- 
 mal accepted this as a challenge, for he arose 
 to his feet, growling savagely, and made to- 
 ward the boys at a rate of speed that as- 
 tonished them. 
 
 When Frank dismounted, he was careful to
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 143 
 
 retain a firm hold of Pete's bridle, for the 
 actions of the horse plainly indicated that, if 
 left to himself, he would take to his heels, and 
 get as far as possible away from the dangerous 
 neighborhood. When he saw that the bear was 
 coming toward him, he snorted and plunged, 
 rendering it impossible for Frank to shoot; 
 and, in fact, the latter had no desire to do so, 
 when he found that the grizzly was about to as- 
 sume the offensive. His first thought was to re- 
 mount; but the horse was so terrified that he 
 would not stand still long enough for Frank 
 to place his foot in the stirrup. 
 
 " Hurry up, there ! " exclaimed Archie, ex- 
 citedly. " The rascal is coming fast. He 
 means fight, sure enough." 
 
 Pete evidently thought so too, for he reared 
 and plunged worse than ever, pulling Frank 
 about over the prairie in spite of all he 
 could do. Suddenly there was a loud snap, 
 and the bridle, broken close to the bit, was 
 violently pulled through Frank's hand. The 
 next moment Pete had disappeared behind a
 
 144 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 swell. For an instant the cousins gazed at 
 each other in dismay. On foot, Frank could 
 not hope to escape from the bear, which, in 
 spite of his clumsy appearance, was making 
 his way toward them with surprising rapidity ; 
 neither could he disable him by a shot from his 
 rifle. Before, he had been as cool and collected 
 as he possibly could be, for he knew that he 
 had a way of escape. But Pete seemed to have 
 carried the last particle of his master's cour- 
 age away with him, for Frank's hand trembled 
 so violently that he knew it would be useless to 
 fire at the bear. But still there was a chance 
 for escape, and Archie was the first to think 
 of it. 
 
 " Frank ! " he exclaimed, " there's only one 
 way now jump up behind me." 
 
 His cousin was prompt to act upon the sug- 
 gestion, and Sleepy Sam, in answer to a thrust 
 from his master's spurs, carried them both 
 toward the camp at a rapid gallop. 
 
 They no longer thought of fighting the 
 grizzly ; their only desire was to reach the old
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 145 
 
 bear's hole as soon as possible, and procure the 
 assistance of the trappers. They both thought 
 that the animal would soon abandon the chase, 
 and their only fear was, that before they could 
 reach the camp and acquaint Dick with what 
 had transpired, the bear would be safe among 
 the mountains. But they soon discovered their 
 mistake. The grizzly steadily followed them, 
 and, although Sleepy Sam made excellent time 
 for a horse encumbered with a double load, 
 gained at every step. But they were rapidly 
 nearing the old bear's hole, and, at length, the 
 boys saw their uncle and the trappers ride out 
 of the willows. Dick was mounted on Frank's 
 horse. The animal, when he found himself at 
 liberty, had made straight for camp, and his 
 appearance there, without his rider, occa- 
 sioned no little surprise and alarm. Dick, as 
 usual, predicted that " Frank warn't a bit hurt. 
 He would be sartin to turn up all right." But 
 still he did not know but the young hunter 
 had got himself into " some scrape," in which 
 he would need assistance, and agreed with Mr.
 
 146 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 Winters that it would be best to hunt him up. 
 The latter was fast falling in with the trap- 
 per's opinion, that his nephews were " 'bout 
 the keerlessest chaps agoin' ; " and although he 
 knew that they always succeeded in bringing 
 themselves " safe out of all their scrapes," he 
 felt considerably relieved, when he saw that 
 Sleepy Sam had carried them out of reach of 
 the claws of the grizzly. 
 
 Archie, when he found that assistance was 
 at hand, stopped and faced the bear, intending 
 to try a shot at him. But the trappers gal- 
 loped toward them, Dick shouting, " Hold on 
 thar, you keerless feller; me an' Bob'll take 
 him off your hands. We'll show you how they 
 hunt bars in Mexico. We'll hang the varmint." 
 
 The trapper swung a lasso above his head, 
 as he spoke, and brought it down across Pete's 
 sides, in a way that made the spirited animal 
 prance in the most lively manner. The horse 
 was still unwilling to approach the bear; but 
 he knew full well that he carried a rider who 
 was able to enforce obedience.
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 147 
 
 The grizzly stopped for a moment when he 
 saw these new enemies approaching, then he 
 rushed toward old Bob, who was in advance of 
 his companion. But he was met by the trap- 
 per's dog, which attacked him with such fury 
 that the bear was obliged to stop and defend 
 himself. Old Bob rode in a circle around the 
 combatants, holding his lasso in his hand all 
 ready for a throw, and yelling with all the 
 strength of his lungs to encourage the dog. 
 Dick was making desperate efforts to join his 
 companion, but his horse stopped about a hun- 
 dred yards from the bear, and stubbornly re- 
 fused to go nearer. His rider, resolved to have 
 his own way, beat him most unmercifully with 
 his lasso, and, as the horse appeared to be 
 equally determined, the boys were unable to 
 decide how the battle would end. All this 
 while Useless had kept up the contest with the 
 bear, and the animal finding that he could not 
 elude his attack, rose on his haunches and 
 struck at the dog with his paws. Old Bob had 
 been waiting for this. Swinging his lasso
 
 148 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 around his head, he launched it at the bear, 
 and as the noose settled down about his neck, 
 he turned his horse and galloped off. The next 
 moment there was a heavy thud, a smothered 
 growl of rage, and the grizzly was prostrate 
 on the prairie. He, however, quickly regained 
 his feet, and, disregarding the attacks of the 
 dog, rushed with open mouth toward old Bob. 
 Now was the time for Dick. Having, at last, 
 been whipped into obedience, Pete gamely ap- 
 proached the bear, and, in an instant more, 
 grizzly was powerless. Dick was on one side 
 of him, old Bob on the other; and their lassos 
 were drawn so taut he could not turn either 
 way. If he attempted to attack Bob, he was 
 checked by Dick; and if he rushed upon the 
 latter, old Bob's lasso stopped him. The griz- 
 zly's struggles were desperate; his growls ter- 
 rific. He tore at the lassos with his claws, and 
 exerted all his tremendous strength to break 
 the raw-hide ropes, w T hich were drawn as tight 
 as a bow-string. But the conflict, desperate as 
 it was, lasted only a short time. The grizzly's
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 149 
 
 struggles grew weaker, his growls fainter, and 
 finally he sank on the prairie dead. The trap- 
 pers slackened up their lassos, and Mr. Winters 
 and the boys, who had closely watched this 
 singular contest, rode up to examine their 
 prize. 
 
 " Thar's your bar, you keerless fellers," said 
 Dick. " If you don't let these yere varmints 
 alone, you'll git yourselves in a bad scrape, one 
 of these days, now, I tell you. A grizzly don't 
 wait fur a feller to walk up an' shake his fist in 
 his face, an' say, ' Do ye want to fight?' He 
 b'lieves in makin' war on every one he sees." 
 
 "We know that!" replied Archie. "This 
 fellow made at us before we got near enough to 
 shoot at him." 
 
 " Then you did mean to fight him, did you? " 
 asked the trapper, as he and old Bob began to 
 skin the bear. " Wai, it ain't every feller that 
 would keer 'bout meddlin' with a grizzly so 
 long as the critter let him alone. I've seed 
 trappers an' brave ones, too that would 
 shoulder their we'pons an' walk off if they
 
 1 50 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 happened to come acrost a bar. It ain't allers 
 fun to hang a grizzly, neither ; fur if your boss 
 falls down, or your lasso breaks, you're a'most 
 sartin to go under. I've seed more'n one poor 
 chap pawed up 'cause his boss warn't quick 
 enough to git out of the varmint's reach." 
 
 In this way the trapper talked to the boys 
 until the skin of the grizzly was taken off, 
 when the travelers returned to their camp. As 
 Archie remarked, it had been " a great day for 
 bears," and the evening was appropriately 
 passed in listening to the stories the trappers 
 related of their adventures with these animals.
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 151 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 A BUFFALO HUNT. 
 
 THE next morning, after breakfast, the boys 
 seated themselves by the fire, and while Frank 
 mended his bridle, which Pete had broken the 
 day before, Archie was endeavoring to conjure 
 up some plan for the day's amusement. Even 
 in that country, which abounded with game, 
 the boys were at a loss how to pass the 
 time, for the grizzlies had interfered with their 
 arrangements considerably. If they went 
 hunting in the mountains, they might come 
 across another bear; and their recent experi- 
 ence with those animals had shown them that 
 the hunters were sometimes the hunted. They 
 had no desire for further adventures with the 
 monsters, and they had at last decided that
 
 152 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 they would take a gallop over the prairie, when 
 they were startled by the clatter of horses' 
 hoofs in the creek, and old Bob who, at day- 
 light, had started out on a " prospecting" ex- 
 pedition galloped into camp, breathless and 
 excited. The boys very naturally cast their 
 eyes toward the prairie, to see if he were not 
 followed by a grizzly; but the sight of one of 
 those animals never affected the old trap- 
 per in that manner. He had seen what he 
 considered larger and more profitable 
 game. 
 
 " Dick," he exclaimed, drawing up his horse 
 with a sudden jerk " Dick, have some buf- 
 faler hump for dinner? " 
 
 " Sartin," replied the trapper, hastily rising 
 to his feet, and throwing away his pipe. " In 
 course. Saddle up to onct, youngsters. We'll 
 have some game now as is game." 
 
 The announcement that there is a herd of 
 buffaloes in the vicinity, always creates an 
 uproar in a hunter's camp, and there was no 
 exception to the rule this time. The boys had
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 153 
 
 never seen the trapper so eager ; and even Mr. 
 Winters, generally so cool and deliberate, was 
 not so long in saddling his horse as usual. 
 This, of course, had an effect upon the boys; 
 but, as is always the case, their hurry occa- 
 sioned them a considerable loss of time. Ar- 
 chie could not find his bridle, and Frank, in his 
 eagerness, broke his saddle-girth ; and, to in- 
 crease their excitement, the others, as soon as 
 they had saddled their horses (Dick rode one of 
 the mules) and secured their weapons, rode off, 
 leaving them alone. Archie, after a lengthy 
 search, found his bridle in the wagon, and 
 Frank at last succeeded in mending his saddle- 
 girth with a piece of buckskin. The boys' rifles 
 stood together against a tree, close by, with all 
 the accouterments hanging to the muzzles. 
 Frank's being a common " patch " rifle, he, of 
 course, had a powder-horn and bullet pouch, 
 while Archie carried the ammunition for his 
 breech-loader in a haversack. The latter was 
 ready first, and hastily seizing the gun that 
 came first to his hand, secured Frank's instead
 
 154 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 of his own, and, putting his horse into a gal- 
 lop, rode down the bed of the creek, throwing 
 the powder-horn and bullet pouch over his 
 shoulder as he went. Frank was ready a mo- 
 ment afterward, and finding his own rifle 
 gone, he, of course, took Archie's. Although he 
 thought nothing of it at the time, he afterward 
 looked upon it as a lucky circumstance. In 
 addition to their rifles, the boys each had two 
 revolvers, which they carried in their holsters. 
 Frank overtook the hunters at the edge of the 
 prairie, where they had stopped to wait for 
 him, and to hold a consultation. The high 
 swells that rose in every direction shut them 
 out from the view of the game, but old Bob 
 knew exactly where to go to find it. As they 
 went along, at an easy gallop, Dick rode up 
 beside the boys, and, addressing himself to 
 Frank, said : 
 
 " Now, youngster, this'll be new bisness to 
 you, so don't be keerless. You must 'member 
 that your hoss ar' as green as a punkin in 
 buffaler huntin', an', if you let him get stam-
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 155 
 
 peded, he'll take you cl'ar to Mexico afore he 
 stops." 
 
 " Stampeded ! " repeated Frank. " Does a 
 horse ever get stampeded with buffaloes? " 
 
 " Sartin he do," answered the trapper, with 
 a laugh ; " an' if you ever get teetotally sur- 
 rounded by a thousand bellerin', pitchin' buf- 
 falers, you'll say it's the wust scrape you ever 
 war in. So don't go too clost to 'em. If your 
 hoss gets frightened, stop him to onct, and 
 quit follerin' 'em." 
 
 Dick was then proceeding to instruct the 
 boys in the manner of hunting the buffaloes, 
 when old Bob, who had been leading the way, 
 suddenly came to a halt. 
 
 " They're just behind that swell," said he. 
 "Don't you hear 'em? Now, we must sepa- 
 rate." Then, in hurried whispers, he pointed 
 out the station he wished each to occupy, and 
 after Dick had again cautioned Frank to keep 
 his horse completely under his control, the 
 boys rode away in different directions. 
 
 When Frank reached his station, he stopped
 
 156 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 his horse, examined his rifle, opened his hol- 
 sters, so that he could readily draw his re- 
 volvers, and waited impatiently for the signal. 
 The hunters were stationed about a quarter of 
 a mile apart. Old Bob was in the center of 
 the line. After satisfying himself that they 
 were all in their places, he waved his hat the 
 signal for the advance. They all started at the 
 same moment, and, before Frank could think 
 twice, his horse had carried him to the top of 
 the swell, and he was in full view of the game. 
 The sight that met his eyes astonished him. 
 
 He had often read of the prairie being black 
 with buffaloes, but he had never seen it before. 
 The herd was an immense one, and stretched 
 away in all directions as far as his eye could 
 reach. But he was allowed no time for ad- 
 miration, for, the moment the hunters made 
 their appearance, the buffaloes discovered 
 them, and made off at the top of their speed, 
 the noise of their hoofs sounding on the hard 
 prairie like the rolling of thunder. Pete was 
 not afraid of buffaloes, and he soon carried his
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 157 
 
 master within easy range of the herd, the near- 
 est of which fell at the crack of his rifle. Too 
 impatient to reload his gun, Frank drew one of 
 his revolvers, and, forgetting, in his excite- 
 ment, all the trapper's advice, spurred after 
 the flying herd; and, so close was he to them, 
 that he seldom missed his mark. When he had 
 fired all the charges, he returned his empty 
 weapon to his holster, and, as he drew the 
 other, he cast his eye in the direction of his 
 companions, and was a good deal surprised to 
 discover that some of the herd had got between 
 him and the rest of his party, and were run- 
 ning almost side by side with him. On the 
 outer edge of the herd, he saw his cousin in 
 company with the trappers. Archie had, 
 doubtless, emptied all his weapons, for he ap- 
 peared to be engaged in reloading. Further 
 back, he saw Mr. Winters, who had stopped to 
 " settle " a large bull he had wounded. He 
 also noticed that the mule, on which Dick was 
 mounted, being entirely unaccustomed to such 
 business, and frightened by the discharges of
 
 158 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 the fire-arms, and the noise of the rushing 
 herd, was making desperate but unsuccessful 
 attempts to throw his rider. Frank, taking 
 this all in at a glance, then turned his atten- 
 tion to the animals nearest him, and soon 
 emptied his second revolver. 
 
 All this while Pete had been running with 
 the bridle hanging loose on his neck; now, as 
 Frank gathered up the reins, he noticed, for 
 the first time, that he was going at a rate of 
 speed he had never before accomplished. This, 
 however, did not alarm him ; but, seeing that 
 he was leaving his companions behind, he 
 thought he would slacken his pace and wait 
 for them to come up. He drew in the reins, 
 but it had no effect on the horse, which, look- 
 ing back over his shoulder, as if frightened at 
 something that was pursuing him, bounded off 
 faster than ever. Taking a firmer hold of the 
 reins, Frank pulled again with all his strength, 
 but to no purpose. Had he been at sea, in an 
 open boat, without rudder, sails, or oars, he 
 could not have been more helpless than he was
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 159 
 
 at that moment. His horse, perfectly unman- 
 ageable, was running away with him ! In an 
 instant, the thought flashed through Frank's 
 mind, that he was in the very position the trap- 
 per had so emphatically cautioned him to 
 avoid. But still he was not frightened, until 
 he cast his. eyes behind him, and, to his utter 
 dismay, discovered that the herd had closed in 
 on all sides of him. Around his horse was a 
 clear space of perhaps a hundred yards in 
 diameter, which was slowly but surely growing 
 smaller, as the frightened animals pressed and 
 crowded against each other. On every side he 
 saw a mass of horns, and tails, and shaggy 
 shoulders, which, like a wall, shut him away 
 from his companions. Away off to the right, 
 he saw the trappers, Archie, and Mr. Winters, 
 no longer pursuing the game, but gazing after 
 him, and throwing their arms wildly about. If 
 they shouted, Frank did not hear what they 
 said, for the noise of that multitude of hoofs 
 would have drowned the roar of Niagara. 
 They could not assist him, neither could he
 
 160 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 help himself. That very morning the trapper 
 had told him of seeing a man trampled to 
 death by a herd of buffaloes, and now a simi- 
 lar fate was in store for himself. The appall- 
 ing thought seemed to deprive him of the last 
 particle of strength, for he reeled in his saddle, 
 and only caught the mane of his horse just in 
 time to save himself from falling to the ground. 
 But, as was always the case with Frank, when 
 placed in situations of extreme danger, this 
 burst of weakness quickly passed. While he 
 had life, he could not relinquish all hope of 
 being able to bring himself safely out of even 
 this, the most perilous position in which he 
 had ever found himself. He could determine 
 upon no particular plan for escape, so long as 
 he was surrounded by those frantic buffaloes. 
 The only course he could pursue was to compel 
 Pete to keep pace with the herd. But this plan 
 did not place him out of the reach of danger. 
 He knew that buffaloes, when stampeded, turn 
 aside for nothing. Neither hills nor rivers 
 check their mad flight, and any living thing
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 161 
 
 that stands in their way is trampled to death. 
 Even the exhausted members of the herd, un- 
 able to keep pace with the others, are borne 
 down and crushed to a jelly. They neither 
 seem to hear or see anything; all their senses 
 being merged into the desire to get as far as 
 possible from the object that has excited their 
 alarm ; and they seldom stop until completely 
 exhausted. 
 
 Frank knew this, and the question that arose 
 in his mind was, " How long could his horse 
 stand that rapid gallop? " He appeared to be 
 as thoroughly frightened as the buffaloes, and 
 it was not at all probable he would show any 
 inclination to stop, so long as he saw that 
 shaggy mass behind him, or could hear the 
 noise of their hoofs, which sounded like the 
 rumbling of an immense cataract. The more 
 he thought of his critical situation, the firmer 
 was his belief that there was but one way open 
 to him, and that was to keep ahead of the ani- 
 mals, which were behind him. Having deter- 
 mined upon this, he again cast his eyes toward
 
 1 62 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 the place where he had last seen his friends. 
 They were gone, and Frank was alone in the 
 midst of that multitude of frantic buffaloes. 
 
 When the trappers had discovered Frank's 
 situation, they knew it was out of their power 
 to assist him. After following him a short 
 distance, in the vain hope of making him hear 
 the words of advice and encouragement which 
 they sent after him with all the strength of 
 their lungs, they had fallen back out of sight. 
 Dick had advised this course, " Fur," said he, 
 " the longer we foller 'em, the faster they'll 
 run. They won't stop till they're clean gin 
 out. If the youngster stays on his hoss, an' 
 keeps ahead of 'em till they're a leetle over 
 their fright, he's all right." 
 
 Dick, however, did not intend to leave his 
 young companion altogether. At his request, 
 - Archie gave up Sleepy Sam to him, and, after 
 assuring the others, who were in a state of in- 
 tense excitement and alarm, that he would cer- 
 tainly find Frank and bring him back safe, he 
 rode off in the direction the buffaloes had
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 163 
 
 gone, while the rest of the party returned to 
 collect their game. 
 
 Meanwhile, Pete, rendered frantic by the 
 deafening noise, was carrying Frank over the 
 prairie at a terrific pace. The young hunter's 
 alarm had somewhat abated, and he appeared 
 as calm as though he was merely taking a ride 
 for amusement ; but his mind was exceedingly 
 busy, and, in a very short space of time, he 
 lived over his whole life. He cast frequent and 
 anxious glances behind, him, but could see no 
 change for the better in his situation. The 
 buffaloes, as far as his eye could reach, pushed 
 and crowded against each other, apparently as 
 frightened as ever, but taking no notice what- 
 ever of the horseman in their midst. The space 
 around his horse was gradually growing 
 smaller, which made Frank shudder when he 
 thought what the result would be if they 
 should close in upon him. 
 
 One hour passed, and still the frightened 
 herd dashed on, with the frantic horse and his 
 helpless rider in their midst, without, in the
 
 1 64 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 least, slackening their pace. Pete was evi- 
 dently in distress. That mad gallop was tell- 
 ing on him severely ; but, while those buffaloes 
 were behind him, all attempts to stop him 
 would have been useless. Another hour glided 
 by, and, to his joy, Frank discovered that the 
 animals behind him were scattering, and that 
 the line of his pursuers was growing thinner. 
 Those in front still ran as fast as ever no 
 doubt, pushed onward by those behind them, 
 while those in the extreme rear were evidently 
 getting over their fright. Frank looked again 
 and again, to satisfy himself that he was not 
 mistaken, and he was confident that, if his 
 horse could hold out half an hour longer, the 
 buffaloes, slowly dividing right and left, would 
 leave a way of escape open to him. The min- 
 utes seemed lengthened into hours ; but his pur- 
 suers were now rapidly taking up their places 
 on the flanks of the herd, and, in a short time, 
 not a buffalo was to be seen behind him. 
 
 Again Frank pulled the reins, and Pete, 
 almost exhausted, and no longer hearing that
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 165 
 
 terrific noise behind him, willingly stopped. 
 Frank, filled with gratitude for his escape, 
 threw himself from the saddle, just as the last 
 of the buffaloes were disappearing over a 
 neighboring swell.
 
 1 66 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A NIGHT AMONG THE WOLVES. 
 
 IT would be impossible to describe Frank's 
 feelings, as he stood there, holding his panting, 
 reeking horse, and listening to that rumbling 
 sound, which grew fainter and fainter, as the 
 buffaloes dashed on their way. Now that the 
 danger of being trampled to death was passed, 
 he did not stop to think of what was still before 
 him. He cared not that he was forty miles 
 from the old bear's hole, and that, in three 
 hours, the sun would be down, and he com- 
 pelled to pass the night alone on the prairie. 
 All thoughts of what he knew he must endure 
 before he reached the camp were swallowed up 
 in thankfulness that he had been able to bring
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 167 
 
 himself safely out of the most dangerous posi- 
 tion in which he had ever been placed. 
 
 In a few moments the last of the buffaloes 
 had passed out of hearing, and Frank then 
 turned his attention to his horse. 
 
 Pete looked very unlike the sleek, spirited 
 animal of which he had been so proud. He 
 was reeking with sweat, panting loudly, and 
 was evidently very nearly exhausted. Had he 
 been obliged to carry his rider a few miles 
 further, Frank might have been compelled to 
 find his way back to camp on foot. Pete was 
 also very much in need of water ; and now that 
 the danger was over, Frank found that he, too, 
 was very thirsty. During his excitement and 
 alarm he had not thought of it; but now that 
 he was able to think calmly, he decided that 
 his first care should be to find a stream of 
 water, where he might quench his thirst. 
 
 After reloading his rifle and revolvers, he 
 again took Pete by the bridle and led him in 
 the direction of the mountains, which, as near, 
 as he could judge, were twenty miles distant.
 
 1 68 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 Although he was most anxious to reach them 
 before night, in hopes that he might find the 
 trapper, (for he knew that Dick would not rest 
 easy until he had found him,) he could not 
 bear the thought of riding his horse while he 
 was in such distress. 
 
 At length he reached the top of a swell, when 
 he paused to look about him. On his right 
 hand, about a mile distant, as he judged, he 
 saw a long line of willows, which (so the trap- 
 pers had told him) were a sure sign of water. 
 Toward the willows, then, he directed his 
 course, in hopes that his horse, when he had 
 quenched his thirst and eaten a few mouthfuls 
 of grass, would be in a condition to travel. 
 But he soon found that it was more than a mile 
 to the willows it was five times that distance 
 and it was about an hour before sunset when 
 Frank reached the stream, and, kneeling down 
 on the bank, took a long, refreshing drink. 
 Here he had a most lively battle with Pete. 
 The horse was stubborn, and when he had de- 
 termined upon a course, it required consider-
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 169 
 
 able persuasion to induce him to abandon it. 
 He wanted to drink his fill of the water at 
 once, to which Frank objected; and it was not 
 until Pete had received several severe blows 
 from a branch that his master cut from one of 
 the willows, that he allowed himself to be led 
 out of the stream. Frank then tied him to a 
 tree, removed the saddle, and threw himself on 
 the ground to determine upon his future move- 
 ments. He was tired and hungry; he did not 
 like the idea of camping on the prairie alone, 
 but he could see no way to avoid it. Then he 
 thought of the trapper, and walked out on the 
 prairie to look for him. But Dick was no- 
 where to be seen. Had Frank remained where 
 he had escaped from the buffaloes, he would 
 then have been in the company of his friend, 
 for the trapper was at that moment standing 
 on the top of the very swell, where Frank had 
 stood when he first discovered the willows. 
 Useless sat by his side, looking up into his mas- 
 ter's face, and whining as if he, too, w r ondered 
 what had become of the object of their search.
 
 170 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 Seeing no signs of Frank, Dick concluded that 
 he was still among the buffaloes, so he kept on 
 after them, now and then shaking his head and 
 muttering " The keerless feller. It beats all 
 natur' how that hoss of his'n traveled." But 
 Frank did not know that Dick was so near 
 him, and, after waiting nearly an hour for him 
 to make his appearance, he returned to the 
 willows, and set about making his prepara- 
 tions for the night. He first selected a suitable 
 spot for a camp, and, after gathering a few 
 dry branches and lighting a fire with a flint 
 and steel he found in Archie's haversack, he 
 took his rifle and walked along the bank of 
 the creek to find something for his supper. 
 He generally took great pleasure in a hunt, 
 but there was no sport in this one, for he could 
 not help thinking of his recent adventure with 
 the grizzly. What if he should meet one of 
 those animals? He could not hope for assist- 
 ance from the trapper. He had no one to de- 
 pend upon but himself. He had always had 
 great confidence in his skill as a marksman,
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 171 
 
 but he had never wished for an opportunity to 
 try it on a grizzly bear. If there were any of 
 those animals among the willows, he did not 
 encounter them, and, in fact, the woods did 
 not appear to abound in game of any kind. 
 The only living thing he discovered was a rac- 
 coon crossing the creek on a log just ahead of 
 him. 
 
 Frank, knowing that he was working for his 
 supper, made a good shot, and when he shoul- 
 dered the 'coon and started for his camp, he 
 felt relieved to know that he was not compelled 
 to pass the night hungry. He had often heard 
 that the flesh of the 'coon was excellent, and 
 he found it was so ; whether it was because he 
 was hungry, or because the meat was really 
 good, he could not decide; but at any rate, he 
 ate nearly half the 'coon, and hung the re- 
 mainder upon a limb to save it for his break- 
 fast. Then, after gathering a supply of fire- 
 wood, sufficient to last all night, he again 
 walked out on the prairie to look for the trap- 
 per. But he was not in sight; and when it
 
 172 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 began to grow dark, Frank returned to his 
 camp, feeling rather lonesome. After he had 
 hobbled Pete, (which he did by tying one end 
 of his halter around his neck, and the other to 
 one of his fore legs,) and turned him loose to 
 graze, he seated himself by the fire, and heart- - 
 ily wished it was morning. 
 
 There was nothing pleasant in the thought 
 that he was obliged to pass the night alone. 
 He had often camped out, but he was not accus- 
 tomed to living in such a wilderness. Had 
 Dick been with him, he would have slept as 
 soundly as he ever did at home; but, as it was, 
 there was no probability of his enjoying a good 
 night's rest. It grew dark rapidly, and the 
 prairie, so deserted and still in the day-time, 
 now seemed to be crowded with wolves. He 
 had heard them every night since he had been 
 on the plains, but he had never listened to such 
 a chorus as saluted his ears that evening. The 
 fact was, they had been attracted by a buffalo 
 that lay but a short distance from Frank's 
 camp. It had been wounded by the hunters in
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 173 
 
 the morning, and becoming separated from the 
 herd, had come to the creek for water, and 
 died. Frank knew that the wolves had found 
 something, for he could hear them growling 
 and fighting over their meal. Suddenly they, 
 all set up a howl, and took to their heels. 
 They did not go far, however, but appeared to 
 be running in circles about their prey, as if 
 they had been driven away by some larger ani- 
 mal. Frank was not pleased with his neigh- 
 bors, and did not feel at all inclined to go to 
 sleep. He sat before his fire, with his rifle 
 across his knees, and his revolvers close at 
 hand, sincerely hoping that the wolves would 
 not approach his camp. For two hours he re- 
 mained in this position, and finally, becoming 
 more accustomed to the howls of the wolves, 
 he leaned against a tree, and was fast losing 
 all consciousness of what was going on around 
 him, when he was aroused by his horse, which 
 came snorting through the willows, and did 
 not stop until he had placed himself close to 
 his master for protection. This alarmed
 
 174 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 Frank, who, remembering how Pete had acted 
 the day before, was certain that there was a 
 grizzly bear prowling about his camp; and, 
 fearful that his horse, if left to himself, would 
 run away, he slipped the bridle over his head, 
 and tied him securely to a tree. While thus 
 engaged, he heard a slight noise in the bushes, 
 as if some heavy animal was endeavoring to 
 pass carefully through them. This continued 
 for half an hour, during which the animal, 
 whatever it was, walked entirely around his 
 camp. This tried Frank's nerves severely. To 
 sit there, in those woods, and listen to some 
 animal walking about, perhaps watching for 
 an opportunity to spring upon him, was al- 
 most as bad as facing a grizzly. Again and 
 again the animal made the circuit of the camp, 
 and presently Frank saw a pair of eyes, that 
 looked like two coals of fire, glaring at him 
 through the darkness. Should he fire at the 
 animal? If it was a grizzly, and the wound 
 should not prove fatal, his life would not be 
 worth a moment's purchase. There might be
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 175 
 
 bushes between him and the beast, that would 
 glance the ball, or his hand might prove un- 
 steady. It was a risk he did not like to take; 
 but he could try the effect of fire on him. So, 
 catching up a brand, he threw it at the eyes, 
 which instantly disappeared. 
 
 During the livelong night did Frank sit by 
 the fire, holding his rifle in his hands, now and 
 then caressing his horse, which stood close be- 
 side him, trembling with fear; while, at regu- 
 lar intervals, he heard a rustling in the wil- 
 lows, which told him that his enemy was still 
 on the watch. 
 
 But all things have an end. At length, to 
 Frank's immense relief, day began to dawn. 
 As soon as he could distinctly discern the 
 nearest objects, he again hobbled his horse, 
 and, after turning him loose to graze, began 
 to prepare his breakfast. After he had cooked 
 and eaten the last vestige of the 'coon, he sad- 
 dled Pete, and, turning his back upon the place 
 where he had passed a most uncomfortable 
 night, set out toward the mountains.
 
 176 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 About the same hour, the trapper arose from 
 the prairie, where he had made his camp, and 
 where he had slept soundly, in spite of the 
 howling of the wolves, and, mounting Sleepy 
 Sam, began to follow up the trail of the buf- 
 faloes. Each was looking for the other, and 
 both were traveling in exactly opposite direc- 
 tions. 
 
 Frank had a long ride before him, and it 
 was monotonous and tiresome. Pete appeared 
 to have fully recovered from the effects of his 
 long run, for he carried his rider at a rapid 
 pace; but, at sunset, Frank had not reached 
 the mountains. He could not bear the thought 
 of camping on that bare prairie, where he could 
 have no fire, and he resolved to ride until he 
 reached the timber at the base of the moun- 
 tains, if it took him until midnight. Darkness 
 settled down over the prairie, and, a short 
 time afterward, he reached the woods. As he 
 rode slowly along, in the hope of discovering 
 some stream, on the banks of which he could 
 camp, he saw a light shining through the trees.
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 177 
 
 A second look showed him that it was a camp- 
 fire. No doubt he would find Dick there. 
 "Without hesitating an instant, he put spurs to 
 liis horse, and rode up in full view of the fire, 
 around which he saw four men lying on their 
 blankets.
 
 1 78 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 FRANK'S NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 
 
 FRANK'S sudden appearance created con- 
 siderable of a commotion in the camp, for the 
 men sprang to their feet and reached rather 
 hurriedly for their weapons. They were evi- 
 dently alarmed ; and Frank was a good deal 
 surprised thereat, for he had not dreamed that 
 men accustomed to the dangers of the prairie 
 as these undoubtedly were could be fright- 
 ened at the sudden approach of a single 
 bewildered horseman. He, however, rode 
 straight up to the fire, where the men stood 
 with their rifles in their hands, and exclaimed, 
 as he dismounted from his horse: 
 
 " Good evening, gentlemen ! "
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 179 
 
 His politeness did not serve to allay the fears 
 of the men, for they regarded him sharply for 
 a moment, and then one of them asked, in a 
 voice that somewhat resembled the growl of 
 an enraged bear: 
 
 " What do you want? " 
 
 " I am lost," replied Frank. " My horse was 
 stampeded with a herd of buffaloes, and I am 
 now making the best of my way back to my 
 friends." 
 
 The man slowly surveyed him from head to 
 foot, and then answered, in a tone of voice 
 which showed that he did not believe Frank's 
 statement : 
 
 " Lost! Lost, ain't ye? Wai, what in tarna- 
 tion are ye lost fur? Why don't ye go whar ye 
 b'long? " 
 
 " That's what I want to do! " replied Frank, 
 who, astonished at the manner in which he was 
 received, and fearful that he would be com- 
 pelled to pass another night alone on the 
 prairie, did not notice the sly, meaning glances 
 which the men exchanged. " I am trying to
 
 180 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 find my friends. I left them at the ' old bear's 
 hole/ if you know where that is." 
 
 This statement was received with something 
 like a long breath of relief by the trappers 
 for such they undoubtedly were and the 
 spokesman continued: 
 
 " Then, ye're sartin ye're lost, an' that ye 
 ain't got no friends nigher nor the ole bar's 
 hole? Who war ye travelin' with? Who's yer 
 comp'ny? " 
 
 " Dick Lewis and old Bob "Kelly," replied 
 Frank, mentioning the names of the guides, 
 with the hope that some of his new acquaint- 
 ances might know them; nor was the hope a 
 \ain one, for the trappers repeated the 
 names, and again exchanged those sly glances, 
 which Frank noticed but could not under- 
 stand : 
 
 " So ole Bob is yer comp'ny," said his ques- 
 tioner, at length; "an' ye're sartin ye left him 
 at the ole bar's hole ! Then, ye won't be likely 
 to set eyes on him to-night, 'cause the bar's 
 hole ar' a good fifty mile from here, an', if
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 181 
 
 ye're actooally an' sartinly lost, ye ain't no 
 ways likely to find it in the dark." 
 
 The trapper was evidently forgetting his 
 fears and recovering his good nature if he 
 possessed that quality for, as he resumed his 
 seat at the fire, he continued, in a somewhat 
 milder tone: 
 
 " If yer hoss war stampeded, stranger, he 
 must be powerful lively on his legs to have tuk 
 ye so fur; but, I reckon, ye must be travelin' 
 a leetle out of yer latitude. It ain't often that 
 a feller meets a teetotal stranger in these parts 
 what says he's lost, an' we don't like to take in 
 every one as comes along; but, if so be that ye 
 are a friend of Dick an' ole Bob, ye can hobble 
 yer hoss an' camp here with us. Ye can sleep 
 by our fire to-night, an' in the mornin' we'll 
 set yer on the right track." 
 
 Frank gladly complied with this invitation, 
 and, after relieving his horse of the saddle, he 
 seated himself at the fire, and began to make 
 a close examination of his new acquaintances. 
 They were all large, muscular men, and were
 
 1 82 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 dressed in complete suits of buckskin, which 
 were very ragged and dirty. Their faces were 
 almost covered with thick, bushy whiskers, 
 and their hair, which, judging by its tangled 
 appearance, had never been made acquainted 
 with a comb, hung down to their shoulders. 
 The man who had acted the part of spokesman, 
 was particularly noticeable, being more ragged 
 and dirty than his companions, and his face, 
 which bore several ugly scars, was almost as 
 black as a negro's. 
 
 In short, they were a very ferocious looking 
 set, and Frank almost wished he had remained 
 on the prairie instead of coming to their camp. 
 But, after all, he might be very much mistaken 
 in his men. It was not to be expected that 
 persons of their calling, who had no doubt 
 lived on the prairie from boyhood, who had 
 been exposed to all kinds of weather, and 
 braved innumerable dangers, it could not be 
 expected that such men should always present 
 a neat appearance. Beneath their rough ex- 
 terior there might be hidden the warmest of
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 183 
 
 hearts. And as for their reception of hini r 
 they had doubtless treated him as they treated 
 every stranger they met on the prairie on the 
 principle, " Believe every man an enemy, until 
 he proves himself otherwise." 
 
 "While these thoughts were passing through 
 Frank's mind, the trappers had been regard- 
 ing him closely and with evident curiosity. 
 
 The result of their examination appeared to 
 be satisfactory, for the spokesman presently 
 remarked : 
 
 " It's plain, stranger, that yer out of yer 
 callin'. Ye don't b'long on the prairy. Yer 
 from the States, we take it." 
 
 Frank replied that he was, and then pro- 
 ceeded to give the trappers an account of the 
 circumstances that had brought him to the 
 prairie, and also told how he had made the 
 acquaintance of Dick and old Bob; to all of 
 which the men listened eagerly, now and then 
 exchanging the same sly glances that Frank 
 had before noticed. When he had finished his 
 story, the swarthy trapper arose to his feet,
 
 184 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 and, going to a tree close by, took down a 
 piece of buffalo meat, from which he cut sev- 
 eral slices that he placed on the coals, remark- 
 ing as he did so : 
 
 " Whenever we do meet a stranger in these 
 parts, an' he turns out to be the right kind of 
 a chap, we allers treat him as handsome as 
 we know how. We can't offer you anything 
 more'n a chunk of buffaler hump, but sich as 
 we have yer welcome to." 
 
 The offer was evidently made in all sincer- 
 ity, and if Frank still entertained any fears 
 that the men were not what they should be, he 
 speedily dismissed them, and again blessed 
 his lucky stars that he was not compelled to 
 pass another night alone on the prairie. 
 
 While his supper was cooking, he was again 
 plied with questions, the most of them relating 
 to the movements of old Bob; and especially 
 did the trappers seem anxious to learn where 
 he was going, and what he intended to do when 
 he returned from California. Frank answered 
 these questions as well as he could, and his re-
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 185 
 
 plies seemed to satisfy the men, one of whom 
 finally changed the subject of the conversa- 
 tion, by remarking: 
 
 " I'll allow that's a fine shootin' iron of 
 your'n, stranger, but it's a new-fangled con- 
 sarn, I should say." 
 
 Frank, it will be remembered, had Archie's 
 rifle, which, being a breech-loading weapon, 
 was something the trappers had never seen be- 
 fore, and it required considerable explanation 
 to enable them to understand " how the con- 
 sarn worked." 
 
 From his rifle they went to the other articles 
 of his " kit." The contents of his haversack 
 were examined, the qualities of his hunting- 
 knife and revolvers discussed, and then they 
 turned their attention to his horse made in- 
 quiries concerning his speed and bottom, 
 until, weary with their questioning, they 
 stretched themselves out by the fire and went 
 to sleep. 
 
 After eating his supper, Frank followed 
 their example; and, being completely ex-
 
 1 86 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 hausted, having scarcely closed his eyes during 
 the preceding night, he slept soundly until 
 morning. 
 
 AA'hen he awoke it was just daylight. The 
 trappers had already arisen ; the fire had been 
 replenished, and several slices of meat were 
 broiling on the coals. 
 
 They hardly noticed Frank; the only reply 
 his polite greetings received, being a sort of 
 grunt and a slight nod of the head. After 
 washing his hands and face in the creek that 
 ran close by a proceeding which the trap- 
 pers regarded with undisguised contempt he 
 seated himself at the fire with the others and 
 began helping himself to the meat, at the same 
 time inquiring the way to the old bear's hole. 
 
 " That ar' is the way, stranger," replied the 
 swarthy trapper, pointing in a direction ex- 
 actly contrary to the one Frank had pursued 
 the day before ; " an', as I told ye last night, 
 it's nigh on to fifty miles off." 
 
 After this, they again relapsed into silence, 
 and as soon as they had finished their break-
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 187 
 
 fast, went out to catch their horses. Frank 
 accompanied them ; all his old fears that there 
 was something wrong, revived with redoubled 
 force, and he was anxious to leave the com- 
 pany of his new acquaintances as soon as pos- 
 sible. When he had caught and saddled Pete, 
 he left him standing for a few moments, until 
 he secured his rifle and haversack, and when he 
 turned to mount, he saw one of the trappers 
 seize the horse by the bridle and spring into 
 the saddle. Frank gazed in surprise at these 
 movements, but before he could speak, the 
 swarthy trapper turned suddenly upon him, 
 exclaiming: 
 
 " Look a here, stranger! Ye come here last 
 night without nobody's askin' ye, an' tells us 
 some kind of a story 'bout yer bein' lost, an' 
 all that. Now, mebbe yer all right, an' mebbe 
 ye ain't. Ye may have friends no great way 
 off, that ye kalkerlate to bring down on us; 
 but ye can't ketch old foxes like us in no sich 
 trap as that ar'. We're jest goin' to take yer 
 hoss to keep yer from find in' yer friends ag'in
 
 1 88 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 in a hurry. Yer young fur sicli bisness as this 
 yere, an' if ye didn't look so mighty innercent, 
 I'd split yer wizzen fur ye. So now be off to 
 onct, an' don't never cross our trail ag'in. If 
 ye do " The trapper finished the sentence 
 by shaking his head threateningly. 
 
 Frank listened to this speech in utter be- 
 wilderment. He could scarcely believe his 
 ears. But it was plain that the trappers were 
 in earnest, for the one who had mounted Pete 
 held his own horse by the bridle, in readiness 
 to start. He fully realized his helpless situa- 
 tion, and it almost overpowered him. But, at 
 length, he found courage to say : 
 
 " You are certainly mistaken. I am lost. 
 I don't know where to go to find my friends, 
 and, if you take my horse from me, I may 
 never find them again. Besides, what is your 
 object in robbing me? " 
 
 " Wai, now, stranger," said the trapper, 
 dropping the butt of his rifle to the ground, 
 and leaning upon the muzzle of the weapon, 
 " we jest ain't a goin' to stand no foolin'. We
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 189 
 
 <?'lieve yer a spy, an' ar' goin' to bring Bob 
 Kelly an' the rest of yer friends down on us. 
 That's jest what's the matter. The prairy is 
 cl'ar, thar ain't no Injuns to massacree ye; ye 
 have a good pair of legs, so trot off on 'em to 
 onct. Ye can be glad enough that we didn't 
 tie ye up to a tree, an' leave ye to the wolves. 
 If ole Kelly could get his hands on us, we'd 
 be used a heap wusser nor robbin', an' you 
 know it well enough. An' when ye see the ole 
 chap, ye can tell him that the next time he 
 wants to try to ketch Black Bill, he'll have to 
 get up a better trick nor this yere. Come, 
 now, mizzle sally out to onct an' don't stop 
 to talk, 'cause it won't do no arthly good what- 
 somever. Yer hoss is gone that's settled 
 an', if yer shootin' iron were any 'count, we'd 
 a tuk that too. We've left ye three loads, an' 
 that'll kill game enough to do ye till ye find 
 yer friends. Come, walk off make yourself 
 skeerce, sudden." 
 
 There was a wicked, determined look in the 
 trapper's eye that told Frank that he was in
 
 1 90 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 earnest; and, fully convinced that it would be 
 useless to remonstrate, and fearful that if he 
 did not obey the order, the man would fulfil 
 his threat of tying him to a tree, and leaving 
 him to the mercy of the wolves, he shouldered 
 his rifle, and, with a heavy heart, set off on his 
 journey. 
 
 When he reached the top of a high swell, 
 about half a mile from the camp, he looked 
 back, and saw the trappers riding off at a 
 rapid gallop, Pete playing and prancing with 
 his new rider as if he was perfectly satisfied 
 with the change. Frank watched them as long 
 as they remained in sight, and then, throwing 
 himself on the ground, covered his face with 
 his hands, and gave way to the most bitter 
 thoughts. What could have induced the trap- 
 pers to act so treacherously? Did they really 
 suspect him of being a spy, or was that merely 
 an excuse to rob him in his defenseless situa- 
 tion? The whole transaction was involved in 
 a mystery he could not fathom, nor was it at 
 all probable that he could arrive at a solution
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 191 
 
 until he should see Dick or old Bob Kelly. 
 Would he ever see them again, was a question 
 he dare not ask himself. The chances were cer- 
 tainly not in his favor, situated as he was, 
 alone, in the midst of an unbroken wilderness, 
 the prairie stretching away, on one hand, as 
 far as his eye could reach, the Rocky Moun- 
 tains looming up on the other. But he was 
 not one to look altogether upon the dark side 
 of the picture. It had a bright side as well, 
 and he found that he had reason to con- 
 gratulate himself that the outlaws for such 
 he now knew them to be had let him off so 
 easily. What if they had left him bound to 
 a tree, as they had threatened? The chances 
 were not one in a hundred that he would ever 
 have been released. Although his horse had 
 been taken from him, he had been allowed to 
 go free, and to retain his rifle and hunting- 
 knife. Yes, his situation might have been in- 
 finitely worse. He still had much to be grate- 
 ful for, and, as long as he had life, he would 
 cherish the hope of being able to find his way
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 to his friends. As these thoughts passed 
 through his mind, they brought renewed 
 strength and determination, and, rising to his 
 feet, he again set out at a brisk walk. 
 
 He remembered that the outlaws had told 
 him that, in order to reach the old bear's hole, 
 he must travel in a direction exactly opposite 
 to the one he was pursuing; but he had good 
 reason to believe that they had endeavored to 
 mislead him. When he took his involuntary 
 ride, he was careful to remember the points of 
 the compass, and, as Pete had carried him ex- 
 actly south, of course, in order to reach his 
 friends, he must travel north. He had no com- 
 pass, but the sun was just rising, and he was 
 able to calculate all the points from that. 
 Having settled this to his satisfaction, he be- 
 gan an examination of his haversack, and 
 found that its contents had been thoroughly 
 overhauled no doubt while he was asleep 
 and that the outlaws had left him three car- 
 tridges for his rifle, and his flint and steel. 
 All the other articles, which consisted of sev-
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 193 
 
 eral rounds of ammunition for his revolvers 
 (which had gone off with his horse), stone ar- 
 row-heads, spear-heads, the claws of the bear 
 that Dick had killed in the cave, and numerous 
 other relics which Archie had collected since 
 leaving St. Joseph, had all been abstracted. 
 
 In spite of his unpleasant situation, Frank 
 could not repress a smile, when he thought 
 how indignant his cousin would be, when he 
 received an account of his losses. Having com- 
 pleted his examination, and placed his remain- 
 ing cartridges carefully away in his pocket, 
 he resumed his journey, and, just as he reached 
 the top of a swell, he discovered a horseman 
 galloping rapidly along the edge of the wil- 
 lows that fringed the base of the mountains. 
 The thought that he saw something familiar, 
 about both the horse and his rider, had 
 scarcely passed through Frank's mind, when 
 he was electrified by the sight of a large 
 brindle dog, which ran in and out of the 
 bushes, with his nose close to the ground, 
 now and then uttering an impatient bark,
 
 194 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 which was answered by yells of encourage- 
 ment from the horseman. There was no mis- 
 taking that yell, and Frank ran down the 
 swell, swinging his hat, and endeavoring to 
 attract the attention of the man with a voice 
 which, in his excitement, he could scarcely 
 raise above a whisper. But he was discovered. 
 Both dog and horseman turned toward him, 
 and, a moment afterward, Frank had one arm 
 around the neck of Useless, and his hand was 
 inclosed in the trapper's vice-like grasp.
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 195 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE TRADER'S EXPEDITION. 
 
 " DICK," exclaimed Frank, as soon as he 
 could speak, " this is the second time you have, 
 found me when lost ; but I wish you had come 
 a little sooner, for " 
 
 " You keerless feller ! " interrupted the trap- 
 per, who knew in a moment that there was 
 something wrong, "you teetotally keerless fel- 
 ler! whar's you hoss? Tell me, to onct, what's 
 come on him." 
 
 " He was stolen from me," answered Frank. 
 " I camped last night about two miles from 
 here, with a party of trappers, and they 
 robbed me." 
 
 " Did ! " exclaimed Dick. " Bar and buf- 
 faler! who war they? They warn't no trap-
 
 196 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 pers, I can tell ye, if they done that ar' mean 
 trick. Tell me all about it to onct." 
 
 Frank then proceeded to relate all that had 
 transpired at the camp; told how closely the 
 men had questioned him concerning the in- 
 tended movements of old Bob ; repeated all the 
 threats which the outlaw had made, and con- 
 cluded his narrative with saying: 
 
 " He told me that when I saw old Bob again, 
 I could say to him, that the next time he 
 wanted to catch Black Bill, he 
 
 " Black Bill ! " almost yelled the trapper. 
 "Black Bill! That ar' tells the hul story. 
 The scoundrel had better steer cl'ar of me an' 
 old Bob, 'cause I'm Bob's chum now, an' any 
 harm that's done to him is done to me too. I 
 can tell you, you keerless feller, you oughter 
 be mighty glad that you ain't rubbed out alto- 
 gether." 
 
 "I begin to think so too," replied Frank; 
 " but, Dick, I want my horse." 
 
 " Wai, then, you'll have to wait till he comes 
 to you, or till them ar' fellers git ready to fetch
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 197 
 
 him back. 'Tain't no 'arthly use to f oiler 'em, 
 'cause they'll be sartin to put a good stretch 
 of country atween them an' ole Bob afore they 
 stop. Your hoss ar' teetotally gone, youngster 
 that's as true as gospel. I tell you ag'in, 
 'tain't every one that Black Bill let's off so 
 easy. Climb up behind me, an' let's travel 
 back to the ole bar's hole." 
 
 Frank handed his rifle to his companion, 
 mounted Sleepy Sam, and the trappers drove 
 toward the camp, slowly and thoughtfully. 
 For nearly an hour they rode along without 
 speaking to each other. Dick, occasionally 
 shaking his head and muttering " Bar an' buf- 
 faler you keerless feller." But at length he 
 straightened up in the saddle, and holding his 
 heavy rifle at arm's length, exclaimed : 
 
 " Youngster, I don't own much of this 
 world's plunder, an' what's more, I never ex- 
 pect to. But what little I have got is of use 
 to me, an' without it I should soon starve. 
 But I'd give it all up sooner nor sleep in a 
 camp with Black Bill an' his band of rascals.
 
 198 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 I'd fight 'em now if I should meet 'em, an' be 
 glad of the chance; but thar's a heap of differ- 
 ence atween goin' under, in a fair skrirnmage, 
 an' bein' rubbed out while you ar' asleep. 
 Durin' the forty year I've been knocked 
 about, I've faced a'most every kind of danger 
 from wild Injuns an' varmints, an' I never 
 onct flinched till I rid on them steam rail- 
 roads but, youngster, I wouldn't do what 
 you done last night fur nothin'. Howsomever, 
 the danger's all over now, an' you have come 
 out with a hul skin ; so tell me what you done 
 while you war lost." 
 
 The manner in which the trapper spoke of 
 the danger through which he had passed,, 
 frightened Frank exceedingly. He knew that 
 Dick was as brave as a man could possibly be, 
 and the thought that he had unconsciously ex- 
 posed himself to peril that the reckless trap- 
 per would shrink from encountering, occa- 
 sioned feelings of terror, which could not be 
 quieted even by the knowledge that he had 
 passed the ordeal with safety; and when, in
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 199 
 
 compliance with the guide's request, he pro- 
 ceeded to relate his adventures, it was with a 
 trembling voice, that could not fail to attract 
 the trapper's attention. 
 
 " I don't wonder you're skeered," said he, 
 as Frank finished his story. " It would skeer 
 o'most anybody. But it's over, now, an' it 
 ain't no ways likely you'll ever meet 'em ag'in. 
 Me an' ole Bob will see 'em some day, an' when 
 we settle, with 'em, we will be sartin to take 
 out pay fur that hoss. When we git to camp 
 Bob'll tell you how he happens to owe Black 
 Bill a settlement. When we seed you goin' 
 off in that ar' way," continued the trapper, 
 turning around in his saddle so as to face 
 Frank, " we didn't feel no ways skeery 'bout 
 your comin' back all right, if you got away 
 from the buffalers. Your uncle said, t In 
 course the boy has got sense enough to see 
 that the mountains now ar' on his right hand, 
 an' to know that when he wants to come back, 
 he must keep them on his left hand;' an' jest 
 afore we went to sleep, I heered him say to
 
 200 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 ole Bob, ' I wonder how Frank is gettin' on 
 without his blanket' Your little cousin said, 
 * I hope he'll fetch back my rifle, an' my pos- 
 sible-sack, an' the things what's in it, all right, 
 'cause I should hate to lose them Injun's top- 
 knots.' I guess he won't laugh none, when he 
 finds out that all them stone arrer-heads, an' 
 spear-heads, an' other fixin's ar' gone. Ole 
 Bob, he knowed, too, that you would turn up 
 all right if you could keep on your hoss till he 
 stopped. But, bar and buffaler! we didn't 
 think you war goin' to camp with that varlet, 
 Black Bill. If we had, thar wouldn't have 
 been much sleepin' done in our camp last 
 night." 
 
 Having thus assured Frank that his friends 
 had entertained no fears of his ability to find 
 his way back to the wagon, the trapper again 
 alluded to the subject of the robbery, obliging 
 his young companion to relate the particulars 
 over and over again, each time expressing his 
 astonishment and indignation in no very meas- 
 ured terms. In this way they passed the fif-
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 201 
 
 teen miles that lay between them and the 
 camp, and finally arrived within sight of the 
 "ole bar's hole.*' 
 
 Mr. Winters, Archie, and Bob were seated 
 on the ground near the wagon, but when they 
 discovered the trapper riding toward them 
 with Frank mounted behind him, they rose to 
 their feet in surprise, and Archie inquired, as 
 he grasped his cousin's hand 
 
 " Did your horse run himself to death?" 
 Before Frank could answer, Dick sprang 
 from the saddle, exclaiming: 
 
 " Bob ! Black Bill's on the prairy." 
 " Black Bill on the prairy ! " repeated the 
 old man, slowly, regarding his friend as if he 
 was hardly prepared to believe what he had 
 heard. 
 
 " Yes, he ar' on this yere very prairy," re- 
 plied Dick ; " an', Bob," he continued, stretch- 
 ing his brawny arms to their fullest extent in 
 front of him, and clenching his huge fists, " an', 
 Bob, that ar' keerless feller actooally camped 
 with him an' his rascally chums, last night.
 
 202 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 Yes, sir, stayed in their camp an' slept thar r 
 an' this mornin' they said as how he war a spy 
 of your'n, sent to ketch 'em ; so they stole his 
 hoss." 
 
 Old Bob was so astonished at this intelli- 
 gence, that he almost leaped from the ground ; 
 while Dick, without allowing the excited 
 listeners an opportunity to ask a question, 
 seated himself beside Mr. Winters and pro- 
 ceeded to give a full account of all that had 
 transpired at Black Bill's camp; during 
 which, Archie, surprised and indignant at the 
 treatment his cousin had received, learned 
 that he also had been a heavy loser by the 
 operation. All his beloved relics were gone. 
 But they still had miles of Indian country to 
 traverse, and these could be replaced; while 
 Frank, in being robbed of his horse had sus- 
 tained a loss that could not be made good. 
 Archie was generous; and, declaring that 
 he had ridden on horseback until he was 
 actuary tired of it, told his cousin to con- 
 sider Sleepy Sam as his own property, an offer
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 203 
 
 which the latter emphatically refused to 
 accept 
 
 " Never mind, youngster," said old Bob, 
 who had listened to all that had passed be- 
 tween the cousins, " never mind. You shan't 
 lose nothin' by bein' robbed by that varlet. 
 Me an' Dick will put you on hossback ag'in 
 afore you're two days older. But this yere 
 shows you that you oughtn't to make friends 
 with every feller you meet on the prairy, no 
 more'n you would in a big city. Now if you 
 war lost in the settlements, and didn't know 
 whar to go to find your hum, you would think 
 twice afore you would camp with a teetotal 
 stranger, an' a feller oughter do the same 
 thing on the prairy. I larnt that long ago, an' 
 through that same feller, Black Bill. Years 
 ago, when Dick's old man war alive, it warn't 
 so. If a feller got a leetle out of his reckonin', 
 an' walked into a stranger's camp, he could 
 roll himself up in his blanket an' sleep as safe 
 an' sound as he could any whar, an' neither 
 man warn't afraid that the other would rub
 
 2O4 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 him out afore daylight. But it ain't so now. 
 Them fellers in the settlements got to doin' 
 meanness, an' run here to git cl'ar of the laws. 
 But they found thar war law here too; an' 
 when they done any of their badness, an' we 
 got our hands on 'em, we made short work 
 with 'em. But they kept comin' in fast, and 
 when three or four of 'em got together, they 
 would take to the mountains, an' thar warn't 
 no use tryin' to ketch 'em. When we seed 
 how things war agoin', a lot of us ole trap- 
 pers, that had knowed each other fur years, 
 made up a comp'ny. We had to do it to de- 
 fend ourselves ag'in them varlets, fur it soon 
 got so it warn't healthy fur a lone man on the 
 prairy, if he had any plunder wuth baggin'. 
 We stuck together till that Saskatchewan 
 scrape, an' now me an' Dick ar' the only ones 
 left. I don't say that we're the only honest 
 trappers agoin', 'cause that ain't so. Thar ar' 
 plenty of good ones left ; but we ar' the last of 
 our comp'ny, an', somehow, we don't keer 'bout 
 trappin' with strangers.
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 205 
 
 " Wai, one spring we went to the fort to 
 trade off the spelter we had ketched durin' 
 the winter, an' the trader we sold 'em to, war 
 makin' up a comp'ny to go to the head waters 
 of the Missouri. He war goin' with his expedi- 
 tion, an' he wanted us to go too. He offered 
 ns good pay ; he would find us we'pons, bosses, 
 traps, and provender fur nothin', an' buy our 
 furs to boot. He done this 'cause thar war a 
 good many traders workin' ag'in him, an' he 
 wanted to be sartin of gittin' all the furs we 
 trapped. We had a leetle talk among our- 
 selves about it,, an', finally, told him that it 
 war a bargain, an' that we would go. So he 
 writ down our names, an' we tuk up our quar- 
 ters in the fort till the day come to start. The 
 trader's name war Forbes, an' as he war our 
 boss, we used to call him Cap'n Forbes. He 
 warn't jest the kind of a man a feller would 
 take to be a trader he smelt too much of the 
 settlements an' even at the fort, among rougli 
 trappers an' soldiers, he would spruce up an' 
 strut like a turkey. 'Sides, he had a nigger
 
 206 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 to wait on him an' take keer of his hoss. As 
 I war sayin', we noticed all these things, but 
 we didn't keer fur 'em, fur, in course, it warn't 
 none of our consarn; all we wanted war fur 
 him to pay us fur the spelter we ketch ed, an' 
 we knowed he could do that, fur the fellers 
 all said he had a big pile of gold an' silver that 
 he carried in his saddle-bags. 
 
 " Wai, we packed our blankets an' we'pons 
 down to the quarters the cap'n pointed out, 
 an' when we got tbar, we found he had half 
 a dozen chaps down 'sides ourselves. We 
 knowed one or two of 'em, (an' we didn't know 
 nothin' good of 'em neither,) but the others 
 war strangers to us. Among the strangers 
 \\Sir Black Bill Bosh Peters he said his name 
 war. He war a'most as black as the cap'n's 
 darkey, an' thar war a bad look in his eye that 
 none of us didn't like. An' him an' his crowd 
 warn't at all pleased to see us, neither; fur, 
 although they met us kind enough, asked us 1 
 to help ourselves to their grub, an' inquired 
 'bout our luck in trappin', durin' the last sea-
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 207 
 
 son, thar war somethin' 'bout them that told 
 us plainer nor words that they would have 
 been much better satisfied if we had stayed 
 away. 
 
 " It war a'most night when we went to the 
 quarters, an' arter we had eat our supper, we 
 smoked our pipes, spread our blankets, an' 
 went to sleep. How long I slept I don't know ; 
 but I waked up sometime durin' the night, an' 
 thought I heered somebody talkin' in a low 
 voice. I listened, an', sure enough, thar war 
 two fellers jest outside of the quarters 
 plannin' somethin*. I heered one of 'em ask: 
 
 "'When shall we do it?' 
 
 " ' Time enough to think of that when we git 
 to the mountains,' said the other. 
 
 " ' But ar' you sartin' he's goin' to take it 
 with him?' 
 
 " ' In course! I heered him say so! ' 
 
 " ' Wai, then, it's all right. But we must 
 be mighty keerful, 'cause our boys don't like 
 the looks of them last fellers that jined the 
 comp'ny. So keep a still tongue in your head.'
 
 208 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 They done some more plannin' and talkin', but 
 I couldn't hear what it war. Then they moved 
 away in different directions, an' purty quick 
 somebody come into the quarters, easy like, 
 an' laid down on his blanket, but it war so 
 dark I couldn't see who it war. Wai, I 
 thought the matter all over, an' soon made up 
 my mind that the varlets had been plannin' an' 
 talkin' ag'in the trader and his money-bags; 
 but when I told the boys of it the next niornin', 
 they all laughed at me, an' said the cap'n 
 warn't fool enough to tote so much money to 
 the mountains with him when he could leave 
 it at the fort, whar it would be safe. They 
 told me I had better not speak of it ag'in, fur 
 if it got to the trader's ears, he might think I 
 war a greeny. Wai, I war quite a youngster, 
 that's a fact; but it warn't long afore it come 
 out that I had more sense nor any of 'em.
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 209 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE OUTLAW'S ESCAPE. 
 
 " BEFORE goin' further," continued the trap- 
 per, " I oughter tell you that this Black Bill 
 had been on the prairy a long time. Like a 
 good many others, he had run away from the 
 law in the States, an', fallin' in with more 
 rascals as bad as he war, he soon made him- 
 self known, by name, to nearly every trapper 
 in the country. 'Sides robbin' lone men he met 
 on the prairy an' in the mountains, he would 
 jine in with Injuns, an' lead 'em ag'in wagon 
 trains. 
 
 " None of our comp'ny had ever seed him, 
 although, in course, we had often heered of 
 him, an' we never onct thought that he would 
 have the face to jine in with a party of honest
 
 2io Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 trappers; so we called him Peters, bein' very 
 fur from thinkin' that he war the feller that 
 had done so much mischief. If we had knowed 
 who he war, prairy law wouldn't have let him 
 live five minits. 
 
 " Wai, arter we had been at the fort 'bout 
 two weeks, Cap'n Forbes got everything ready 
 fur the start, an', one mornin', bright an' 'arly, 
 we sot off t'wards the mountains. Thar war 
 fourteen of us altogether seven of us fellers, 
 five of Bosh Peters' party, the trader, and his 
 darkey. We had four pack mules ; and, as the 
 Cap'n warn't a bit stingy, he had give us good 
 we'pons an' plenty of powder an' lead. I 
 hadn't forgot what them two fellers said that 
 night, although I hadn't never spoke about it, 
 fur fear of bein' laughed at an' I kept close 
 watch on the trader, to find out if he had his 
 money with him. He carried a pair of saddle- 
 bags, an' they were well packed, too; but, 
 judgin' by the keerless way he throwed them 
 around, when we camped fur the night, thar 
 warn't no money in 'em. Bosh Peters and his
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 211 
 
 party had all along been tryin' to git on the 
 
 - 
 
 right side of us, and purty soon our fellers 
 begun to think that we had been fooled in 'em, 
 an' that they war all right arter all. 
 
 " Wai, when we reached the trappin' 
 grounds, we built our quarters fur the winter, 
 an' then commenced work. The trader went 
 with one feller one day, an' with another the 
 next. He warn't no trapper; but he liked the 
 sport, an' seemed to want to larn how it war 
 clone. But, arter awhile he got tired of this, 
 an' stayed in the camp from mornin' till night. 
 He never went out with me; if he had, I should 
 have told him to keep his eye on them money- 
 bags, if he had 'em with him. 
 
 " One day, as I war at work settin' a trap in 
 a clump of bushes that grew on the banks of a 
 little creek, I heered some fellers comin 1 along, 
 talkin' to each other. Now, jest that one little 
 thing war enough to make me b'lieve that thar 
 war somethin' wrong in the wind, 'cause, when 
 fellers go out to hunt an' trap, an' fur nothin' 
 else, they don't go together through the woods,
 
 212 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 as though they were huntin' cows. So I sot 
 still an' listened, an' purty quick heered Bosh 
 - Peters talkin'. Thar war one feller with him, 
 but the bushes war so thick I couldn't see him, 
 an' I didn't know his voice. They war comin' 
 right t'wards me, an' when they reached the 
 creek, one of 'em went to get a drink, an' the 
 others sot down on a log not ten foot from me. 
 Purty soon I heered Bosh Peters say: 
 
 " ' I know it's time we war doin' something 
 Tom, but I'm a'most afraid to try it. Them 'ar 
 fellers are seven to our five, an' if we shouldn't 
 happen to get away, we would ketch prairy 
 law, sartin; an' that's a heap wusser nor law 
 in the settlements. They don't give a feller a 
 chance to break jail on the prairy.' 
 
 " ' Black Bill,' said the other, l thar's jest no 
 use a talkin' that 'ar way. If we're a goin' to 
 do it at all, now is jest as good a chance as w r e 
 shall have. The cap'n stays in the camp all 
 day alone, an' afore the other chaps get back to 
 larn what's done, we can be miles in the moun- 
 tains.'
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 213 
 
 " ' Wai, then,' said Black Bill, < let's do the 
 job to onct. The cap'n war in the camp this 
 mornin' when I left, an' if he's thar this arter- 
 noon, we'll finish him, an' the money-bags are 
 curn. But let's move off; it won't do fur us to 
 be seed together.' 
 
 " The varlets walked away, an' I lay thar in 
 them bushes fifteen minutes afore I stirred. 
 This war the fust time that I kuowed Black 
 Bill war one of our comp'ny. To say that I 
 war surprised to hear it, wouldn't half tell how 
 I felt. I war teetotally tuk back. The idea of 
 that feller comin' into our camp, when he 
 knowed that if he war found out, short work 
 would be made with him! I could hardly 
 b'lieve it. But I couldn't lay thar, foolin' 
 away time with such thoughts, when I knowed 
 that the cap'n's life war in danger. So, 
 thinkin' the rascals had got out of sight an' 
 hearin', I crawled out of the bushes, intendin' 
 to start at onct fur the camp, an' tell the fel- 
 lers what I had jest heered. I walked down to 
 the creek fust, to get a drink, an' jest as I war
 
 214 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 bendin' over, I heered the crack of a rifle; a 
 bullet whistled by, not half an inch from my 
 head, an' buried itself in the ground. I 
 jumped to my feet, an' lookin' up the bank, 
 saw a leetle smoke risin' from behind a log not 
 twenty yards distant. Grabbin' my rifle, 
 which I had laid down as I war goin' to drink, 
 I rushed acrost the creek, an' the next mini I; 
 war standin' face to face with Black Bill. Fur 
 an instant the chap shook like a leaf, an' 
 turned as pale as his black skin would let him. 
 Then he seemed to find his wits ag'in, fur he 
 stuck out his hand, sayin' : 
 
 " By gum, Bob Kelly! is that you? I'll be 
 shot if I didn't take you fur an Injun. I'm 
 mighty glad I didn't hit you, Bob ! ' 
 
 " < You can't blarney me, Black Bill,' said I. 
 ' I know you ; ' an' as I stood thar lookin' at 
 the rascal, an' thought of all the badness he 
 had done, I had half a mind to shoot him. The 
 way of it war, the varlet kind o' thought that 
 somebody had been listenin' to what he said 
 'bout robbin' the cap'n, an' he had hid behind
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 215 
 
 the log to watch. When he seed me come out 
 of the bushes, he knowed that I had heered all 
 that had been goin' on, an' he thought his best 
 plan war to leave me thar dead. "But, although 
 he warn't twenty yards off when he fired at me r 
 he missed me teetotally. JVal, when he seed 
 that I knowed him, an' that he couldn't fool me 
 into b'lievin' that he tuk me fur an Injun, he 
 thought he could skeer me, so he growled: 
 
 " ' If you know me, Bob Kelly, you know a 
 man that won't stand no nonsense. I have 
 friends not fur off, an' if you know anything, 
 you'll travel on 'bout your own bisness." 
 
 " ' Now, look a here, Black Bill,' said I, < I 
 hain't never been in the habit of standin' much 
 nonsense, neither leastways not from such 
 fellers as you, an' if you knowed me, you would 
 know that I don't skeer wuth a charge of gun- 
 powder. That 'ar is the way to the camp, an' 
 if you want to live two minutes longer, you'll 
 travel off at onct.' Seein' that he didn't start, 
 but that he stood eyein' me as if he'd a good 
 mind to walk into me, I stepped back, an'
 
 216 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 p'intin' my rifle straight at his heart, said : ' I 
 shan't tell you more'n onct more that 'ar is 
 the way to camp. You can go thar, or you can 
 stay here fur the wolves, jest as you please.' 
 
 " I guess he seed that I war in 'arnest, fur 
 lie shouldered his empty rifle, an' started 
 through the woods, I follerin' close behind, 
 ready to drop him if he should run or show 
 fight. I felt mighty oneasy while travelin' 
 through that timber, 'cause I knowed well 
 enough that the rascal had friends, an' if one 
 of 'em should happen to see me marchin' Black 
 Bill off that 'ar way, he'd drop me, sartin. 
 But I reached the camp in safety, an' thar I 
 found two of our own fellers, an' four that I 
 had allers thought war friends of Black Bill. 
 They all jumped up as we came in, fur they 
 knowed by the way I looked that somethin' 
 war wrong, an' one of 'em said : 
 
 " < What's Bosh Peters been a doin', Bob? ' 
 
 " < That ain't no Bosh Peters,' said I ; ' that 
 'ar chap is Black Bill.' 
 
 " Now comes the funniest part of the hul
 
 
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 217 
 
 bisness. Every trapper on the prairy, as I told 
 you, had heered of Black Bill, an' when I told 
 'em that my prisoner war the very chap, an' 
 that he had been layin' a plan to rob the cap'n, 
 I never seed sich a mad set of men in my life. 
 " They all sot up a yell, an' one of 'em, that 
 I would have swore war a friend of Black Bill, 
 d rawed his knife, an' made at the varlet as if 
 he war goin' to rub him out to onct. But my 
 chum, Ned Roberts, ketched him, and tuk the 
 we'pon away from him. This sot the feller to 
 bilin', and he rushed round the camp wusser 
 nor a crazy man. He said that Black Bill had 
 shot his chum, an' that he war swore to kill 
 him wherever he found him; and he war goin' 
 to do it, too. An' the fust thing we knowed, 
 he grabbed somebody's rifle, an' jumped back 
 to shoot the pris'ner. But he war ketched 
 ag'in, afore he could fire, and then he howled 
 wusser nor ever. Wai, we tied Black Bill to a 
 tree in the camp, an' this feller kept slippin' 
 round, with his tomahawk in his hand, an' it 
 tuk two men to get the we'pon away from him.
 
 218 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 " The chap tuk on so, that we all thought 
 that he told the truth, but, (would you believe 
 it?) I arterwards larnt that he war the very 
 >ame chap that I had heered talkin' with Black 
 Bill 'bout robbin' the cap'n. He kind o' 
 thought that we might know something ag'in 
 him, an' he carried on in that way to make us 
 b'lieve that he war really an enemy of Black 
 Bill. In course we didn't know this at the 
 time. If we had, he'd soon been a pris'ner too. 
 But, supposin' him to be tellin' the gospel 
 truth, we felt sorry fur him, an' promised that 
 Black Bill shouldn't ever be let loose to do 
 meanness ag'in. While the fuss war goin' on, 
 the trader come out; an' when we told him 
 what happened how the pris'ner an' one of 
 his friends, that we didn't know, had been 
 layin' a plan to do robbery an' killin' ; an' that 
 the chap he called Bosh Peters war none other 
 than Black Bill the outlaw I never seed a 
 man so tuk back in my life. It skeered him 
 purty bad. He had allers looked upon Black 
 Bill as one of the honestest men in the expedi-
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 219 
 
 tion; an', when he found that he war a traitor, 
 lie didn't know who to trust ; an' he tuk mighty 
 good keer not to be alone durin' the rest of the 
 arternoon. 
 
 " Wai, when it growed dark, the fellers be- 
 gan to come in from their day's work, some 
 loaded with furs, an' others with a piece of bar 
 or big-horn, which they had knocked over for 
 supper. As fast as they come in, we told 'eni 
 what war up, an' they didn't take it very easy, 
 now, I tell you. 
 
 " The idee that Black Bill, arter doin' so 
 much badness robbin' lone trappers an' 
 leadin' wild Injuns ag'in wagon trains 
 should come into one of our forts, an' stick his 
 name down with those of honest, hard-workin' 
 trappers, when he knowed that every one of 
 'em had plenty ag'in him, I say it war hard to 
 b'lieve. But thar he war, tied to a tree, an', 
 when the boys come to look at him close, they 
 wondered that they hadn't knowed afore that 
 he war a villain. 
 
 " Wai, we waited a long time for all of our
 
 22O Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 fellers to come in; but thar war three of us 
 missin', an' that war the only thing that saved 
 Black Bill. We didn't want to pass sentence 
 on him without lettin' all the boys have a 
 chance to say somethin'; an' as they might 
 come in some time durin' the night, we thought 
 we would keep the varlet till morning. So we 
 tied him, hand an' foot, and laid him away in 
 one of the cabins. The cap'n's darkey made 
 him a bed of hemlock boughs, an' laid him on 
 it, abusin' him all the while like all natur', an* 
 goin' in for shootin' him to onct. It would 
 have been well for one of us, if we had put that 
 darkey in there as a pris'ner too. But we 
 didn't know it, an' afore we got through he 
 cost us the life of one of the best men in our 
 comp'ny. The fellers then all went to bed ex- 
 cept me. I guarded the varlet till the moon 
 went down, and then, arter calling my chum, 
 who war to watch him till daylight, I went 
 into my quarters an' slept soundly all the rest 
 of the night. When it come mornin', I awoke, 
 an', in a few minits, all our boys war up. The
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 221 
 
 fellers had all come in durin' the night, an' ole 
 Jim Roberts my chum's ole man who war 
 our leader, called a council. Black Bill didn't 
 seem to have a friend among us, for the last 
 man of us said as how the law must be lived 
 up to. 
 
 " * Who guarded him last night? ' asked the 
 ole man. 
 
 " ' I did,' I answered, ' till the moon went 
 down, and then Ned tuk my place.' 
 
 " i Wai, Ned, bring out the pris'ner,' said the 
 ole man. ' But whar is Ned?' he asked, rnn- 
 nin' his eye over the camp. 'Ned! Ned 
 Roberts ! ' 
 
 " I had all along s'posed that Ned war still 
 guardin' the pris'ner; but when he didn't 
 answer, I knowed in a minit that somethin' 
 had been goin' wrong ag'in, an' the others 
 knowed it too, fur men who have lived in dan- 
 ger all their lives ain't long in seein' through a 
 thing of that kind. So we all rushed to the 
 cabin where we had left the outlaw, an' there 
 lay my chum stark an' dead stabbed to the
 
 222 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 heart! The pris'ner war gone. Thar war the 
 strips of hickory bark we had tied him with, 
 an' thar war the knife he had used but Black 
 Bill had tuk himself safe off. We stood thar, 
 not knowin' what to say or do. Ole Jim war 
 the fust that could speak. 
 
 " ' Another gone,' said he ; ' an' it's my only 
 son; an' now whar's the traitor? ' 
 
 " He looked from one to the other of us as he 
 said this, b.ut no one answered. 
 
 " * He's here right among you,' said the ole 
 man, the tears rollin' down his cheeks. ' He's 
 right among you. That knife couldn't got in 
 here without hands; an 'thar's somebody in 
 this yere camp, that's helped Black Bill in 
 makin' his escape. Speak, men, who's the out- 
 law's friend?' 
 
 " But still no one answered. We all knowed 
 he war thar, but how could we tell who it war, 
 when we had no proof ag'in any one? 
 
 " ' Bring him out, boys,' said the old man, at 
 last ' He war a kind son, an' a good trapper.
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 223 
 
 But he's done his work now, an' we've lost one 
 of the best men in our comp'ny.' 
 
 " Wai, we carried poor Ned out, an' arter 
 layin' him in my cabin, we started off on the 
 trail of the outlaw. But he had a good long 
 start, an' that night we had to come back with- 
 out him. I've never seen him from that day 
 to this. 
 
 " The next mornin' none of us went out to 
 trap, fur we couldn't help thinkin' of poor Ned. 
 He war the fust chum I had ever had, an' me 
 an' him had been together a'most ever since we 
 had strength to shoulder a rifle more'n ten 
 year an', in course, I war in natur' bound to 
 avenge him. I stayed in my quarters, wonderin' 
 who it war that had helped the outlaw; when, 
 all of a sudden, I happened to think of some- 
 thin' that brought me to my feet in a hurry, an' 
 sent me into ole Jim's quarters. I talked the 
 matter over with him, told him what I thought, 
 an', in a few minits more, we called our boys 
 together, an' war marchin' towards the trader's 
 camp. The darkey war cookin' his master's
 
 224 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 breakfast, in front of the cabin, singin' an' 
 whistlin' as jolly as could be; but when he seed 
 us a comin' he shet up in a mighty hurry, an' 
 actooally turned white! I knowed he wouldn't 
 act that ar' way if he warn't guilty, so I sung 
 out, ' Here's the traitor, boys! ' 
 
 " The darkey, seein' that the thing war out, 
 started to run. He hadn't gone far, how- 
 somever, afore we had him, an' then he 'fessed 
 the hul bisness. He said he had told the 
 outlaw that the cap'n war goin' to take his 
 money-bags with him, an' that, bein' the 
 last to leave Black Bill arter we had tied 
 him, he had hid the knife in his bed. The 
 pris'ner's arms had been fastened above his 
 elbows, an', in course, havin' a sharp we'pon, 
 it war the easiest thing in the world to cut him- 
 self loose, an' to pitch into poor Ned afore he 
 knowed it. Arter he had 'fessed this, we held 
 a council, an' prairy law tuk its course. This 
 skeered the trader wusser nor ever. If his own 
 servant war treacherous, he couldn't trust no- 
 body. So he ordered us to break up our camp
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 225 
 
 an' strike fur the fort When we got thar, an' 
 offered to give up our bosses an' weapons, he 
 wouldn't listen to it at all. He said that we 
 had saved him an' his money-bags, an' that we 
 could keep our kit, an' welcome. 
 
 " Wai, our huntin' expedition bein' broke up, 
 we put out on our own hook. We still thought 
 that them four fellers b'longed to Black Bill's 
 party, an' we soon found that it war so; fur we 
 had hardly got out of sight, afore they started 
 fur the mountains. They knowed 'bout whar 
 to go to find the outlaw, an' they've been with 
 him ever since, robbin' an' stealin'. One of his 
 party has ben rubbed out, but thar ar' four of 
 them left yet, an' they do a heap of mischief. 
 I have looked an' watched fur 'em fur years, an' 
 if I never find 'em, I shall leave 'em to Dick; 
 so I know justice will be done 'em. If you had 
 knowed all these things, youngster, I don't 
 reckon you would have slept very sound in 
 Black Bill's camp."
 
 226 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE KING OP THE DROVE. 
 
 THE travelers had been intensely interested 
 in the old trapper's story, and not even the 
 thought that the danger was passed, and that 
 Frank was safe in camp again, could alto- 
 gether quiet their feelings. Frank was more 
 astonished than ever, and he secretly deter- 
 mined that he would never again lose sight of 
 the wagon, if he could avoid it. But, if he 
 should again be compelled to take an involun- 
 tary ride, and should happen to fall in with 
 strangers on the prairie, he would give them 
 a wide berth. 
 
 Mr. Winters said nothing. He did not think 
 that the occasion demanded that he should
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 227 
 
 caution his nephew, for it was by no means 
 probable that the latter would soon forget 
 his night in the outlaw's camp. 
 
 His adventures, which were the subject of a 
 lengthy conversation, did not, however, en- 
 tirely quench his love of excitement, and when, 
 after a hearty dinner on buffalo hump, Archie 
 proposed a short ride on the prairie, he agreed 
 to accompany him, and, as soon as he had 
 caught and saddled his uncle's horse, was 
 ready for the start. As they rode along out of 
 the woods, Archie informed his cousin that an- 
 other herd of buffaloes had been seen that 
 morning by old Bob, feeding near the base of 
 the mountains, and announced his determina- 
 tion of endeavoring to shoot one, if they should 
 happen to come across them. As there was 
 now no danger of being stampeded both of 
 their horses being old buffalo hunters Frank 
 agreed to the proposal, and followed his cousin, 
 who led the way toward the place where the 
 buffaloes had last been seen. Swell after swell 
 they mounted, straining their eyes in every
 
 228 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 direction, without discovering the wished-for 
 game. 
 
 But they saw something else that excited 
 them quite as much as the sight of a herd of 
 buffaloes would have done; for, as Archie, who 
 had ridden some distance in advance of his 
 cousin, reached the top of one of the hills, 
 Frank saw him suddenly draw rein, and back 
 his horse down the swell, out of sight of some- 
 thing which he had discovered on the other 
 side. He then rode back to meet Frank, and, 
 as soon as he came within speaking distance, 
 whispered, excitedly: 
 
 " There's a big drove of wild horses out 
 there." 
 
 Frank waited to hear no more, but, throwing 
 his bridle to his cousin, dismounted from his 
 horse, and, going cautiously to the top of the 
 swell, looked over. Sure enough, there they 
 were, about half a mile distant, probably five 
 hundred of them, scattered about over the 
 prairie, some feeding, and others prancing 
 about, as if wholly unconscious of clanger.
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 229 
 
 Among them was one horse an iron-gray 
 rendered conspicuous by his great size and ex- 
 traordinary beauty, which galloped about as if 
 he were " monarch of all he surveyed." Frank 
 remembered what Dick had told him about 
 every drove of wild horses having a " master," 
 and, as he watched his movements, and noticed 
 how the other horses shied at his approach, he 
 came to the conclusion that the gray horse was 
 the king. He gazed at them for some time, 
 admiring their rapid, graceful movements, and 
 thinking how fully the gray would supply the 
 place of the horse he had lost, when he noticed 
 that the animals were feeding directly toward 
 him. Fearful of being discovered, he crawled 
 back down the swell, and rejoined his cousin. 
 
 " What shall we do? " asked the latter, ex- 
 citedly. 
 
 " Don't you suppose Dick could catch one of 
 those fellows? " inquired Frank. 
 
 " Of course he could,'' answered Archie, 
 quickly. " Didn't he catch that black mustang 
 he told us about a horse that everybody had
 
 230 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 tried to catch, and couldn't? Let's go back, 
 and ask him to try." 
 
 The boys hastily remounted, and started for 
 the camp as fast as their horses could carry 
 them. Archie, of course, led the way, and, as 
 he dashed up to the wagon, he threw himself 
 from the saddle, exclaiming: 
 
 " Dick, there's a drove of wild horses out 
 there on the prairie. Jump on Sam, and go 
 and catch one for Frank." 
 
 " That's the same drove I seed day afore yes- 
 terday,' 1 said old Bob, " an' that's what I 
 meant when I told Frank we'd put him on 
 hossback ag'in afore he war two days older. 
 Ketch my hoss, Dick." 
 
 Dick did as he was desired, and, by this 
 time, Frank had come up, Archie, in his eager- 
 ness, having left him far behind. 
 
 " Did you skeer 'em, youngsters? " asked old 
 Bob, as he went to the wagon and drew out 
 two rawhide lassos, one of which he handed to 
 Dick. 
 
 " No," replied Frank. " They didn't see us.
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 231 
 
 Dick, catcli the king he's a large iron-gray 
 the prettiest horse in the drove. If I could 
 have him, I would be glad I lost Pete." 
 
 " Wai, now, that ar' will be a hard thing to 
 do, youngsters," replied the trapper, coiling 
 up his lasso, and hanging it on the horn of his 
 saddle; " a mighty hard thing to do. Them ar' 
 kings ar' allers the swiftest hosses in the 
 drove; an' it ain't every ole buffaler hunter 
 that can keep up with 'em." 
 
 Archie was astonished to hear the trapper 
 speak so lightly of Sleepy Sam, a horse that 
 had several times proved himself to be pos- 
 sessed of great speed ; but Dick hastened to ex- 
 plain. 
 
 " I ain't savin' nothin' ag'in your hoss, little 
 one, no more'n I am ag'in Bob's. But if you 
 had chased wild hosses as often as I have, you 
 would know that a hoss can beat anything in 
 a wagon train, an' yet have no bisness with the 
 king of a drove. I won't say that we'll ketch 
 that gray fur you, Frank, but we'll try hard, 
 an' if he is too fast fur us, we'll lasso one of
 
 232 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 the others, sartin. We'll bring back somethin' 
 fur you to ride." 
 
 By this time the trappers were ready for the 
 start, Mr. Winters and the boys accompanied 
 them to the edge of the prairie, and there Bob 
 and Dick left them, after repeatedly assuring 
 Frank that it was not their intention to return 
 empty-handed. 
 
 When they had disappeared, Mr. Winters 
 and the boys seated themselves on the ground, 
 and for nearly an hour, waited and listened for 
 the sound of the pursuit. Suddenly a single 
 liorse appeared upon the summit of a distant 
 swell, and facing about, stood as if regarding 
 some object that had excited his curiosity. 
 Then came another, and another, and in a 
 moment more the entire drove appeared, run- 
 ning at the top of their speed. One minute 
 elapsed two three and then two more 
 horses suddenly arose over the swell, and fol- 
 lowed swiftly after the drove. The chase had 
 begun in earnest. The boys were surprised, 
 and not a little discouraged, to see the trap-
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 233 
 
 pers so far behind. But still they had great 
 confidence in them, and Frank was already 
 reconciled to the loss of his horse, and confi- 
 dent that he would own another before he went 
 to sleep th*t night. The chase was tending 
 directly toward the mountains, and it pre- 
 sented a sight the boys would have been loth 
 to miss. Nearer and nearer came the wild 
 steeds, prancing and snorting, and looking 
 back at the strange objects that were pursuing 
 them. Presently, among the foremost ones, 
 the boys discovered the gray king. He moved 
 over the ground as lightly as if he had been 
 furnished with wings, and as Frank watched 
 his movements, he reluctantly came to the con- 
 clusion that if his endurance was as great as 
 his speed, he must content himself with one of 
 the common horses of the drove. They con- 
 tinued to advance until they came within a 
 quarter of a mile of the willows, when they 
 seemed, for the first time, to discover that their 
 retreat in that direction was cut off by the 
 mountains. This appeared to confuse and
 
 234 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 frighten them. The foremost ones slackened 
 their speed, but seeing their pursuers close be- 
 hind them, the drove suddenly divided, part of 
 the horses turning one way, and the rest going 
 the other. The trappers had kept their eyes on 
 the king, and, when he turned, they singled 
 him out from the others, and followed him with 
 increased speed. The gray mustang made an 
 exhibition of his powers that was truly sur- 
 prising ; but the trappers took a " short cut " 
 on him, and gained so rapidly that Frank's 
 hopes rose again. Sleepy Sam was running 
 splendidly ; but, to the surprise of all, old Bob's 
 ungainly, raw-boned horse, in answer to a yell 
 from his rider, bounded past him. All this 
 happened in much less time than we have taken 
 to describe it. The horses moved with wonder- 
 ful rapidity, and, in a very few moments after 
 the drove divided, the gray king and the trap- 
 pers were out of sight behind the swells, and 
 all sounds of the chase had died away in the 
 distance. 
 
 Mr. Winters then returned to the camp,
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 235 
 
 while the excited boys again seated themselves 
 on the ground, and waited long and impati- 
 ently for the trappers' return. The hours 
 slowly wore away, and, finally, the sun went 
 down, but still no signs of the horsemen. It 
 soon began to grow dark, and the boys were 
 obliged to return to the wagon. Frank pre- 
 pared supper that evening, but their appetites 
 must have gone off with the gray mustang, for 
 they ate but little. They sat beside the fire 
 until midnight, straining their ears to catch 
 the first sounds of the trappers' return; but 
 nothing but the occasional howl of a wolf 
 broke the stillness; and, finally, growing tired 
 of watching, they spread their blankets and 
 went to sleep. At the first peep of day they 
 were again stirring, and, after a hasty break- 
 fast, they stationed themselves in the edge of 
 the willows, to await the return of the horse- 
 men. In about two hours their patience was 
 rewarded by the discovery of several objects 
 moving along the summit of a distant swell. 
 As they approached, the boys recognized the
 
 236 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 trappers, and in half an hour they were within 
 speaking distance. Could Frank believe his 
 eyes? Was Dick really riding the gray king? 
 It was a horse that bore a strong resemblance 
 to him, and Frank felt confident that the ani- 
 mal he had so much admired, was really his 
 own. Nor was he deceived ; for, as they came 
 up, Dick exclaimed : 
 
 " Here we ar', youngsters. We've got him, 
 sure as shootin'. Easy thar," he continued, as 
 the delighted boys walked slowly around him, 
 admiring his fine points. " If you know any- 
 thing you'll keep cl'ar of his heels. He ain't 
 very good natur'd.*' 
 
 This was very evident; for the trapper had 
 scarcely spoken before the mustang began to 
 show his temper. He danced about in the most 
 lively manner; first rearing up almost straight 
 in the air, and then kicking with both hind 
 feet. His plunges were furious and desperate, 
 and the boys fully expected to see the trapper 
 unseated. But the latter, although he had no 
 saddle that being a contrivance he despised
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 237 
 
 and only had his lasso twisted around the 
 gray's lower jaw, for a bridle, kept the animal 
 completely under his control, and rode him 
 into the camp in triumph. 
 
 " The critter led us 'bout as long an' as lively 
 a race as we ever run," said Dick, after the 
 gray had been securely fastened to a tree. 
 " An' it war only by accident that we ketched 
 him. I don't reckon I am sayin' too much 
 when I say that I never seed a boss run faster 
 nor hold out better nor he did not even the 
 black mustang. " We went 'round on the 
 other side of the drove afore w r e started 'em, 
 on purpose to make 'em run t'wards the moun- 
 tains. That give you a good sight of somethin' 
 you never seed afore, an' by it we gained on 
 the gray when he turned. Wai, he kept ahead 
 of us for ten or twelve miles, gainin' on us all 
 the while, fur when he seed that we war arter 
 him in 'arnest, the way he did climb over the 
 prairy war a purty thing to look at when, 
 all to onct, we found ourselves in a prairy- 
 dogs' nest. The prairy, as far as a feller could
 
 238 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 see, war like a honey-comb. I 'spected every 
 minit that my hoss would break through, an' 
 at last he did. But the gray broke in fust 
 went down clean to the top of his legs, an' 
 couldn't git out. I war sartin we had him, an' 
 war jest goin' to throw my lasso, when my 
 hoss went in, an' kerchunk I went on the 
 ground. But ole Bob war on hand, an' he 
 ketched him. We told you, Frank, that we'd 
 put you on horseback ag'in, an' now that we've 
 done it, I don't reckon you'll lose this animal 
 by campin' with Black Bill."
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 239 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 . HOW THE TRAPPER GOT HIS HORSE. 
 
 AFTER supper, the travelers seated them- 
 selves around the fire, and the trappers lighted 
 their pipes. After smoking a while in silence, 
 old Bob said : 
 
 " As I have told you afore, youngsters, it 
 ain't always a easy job to lasso the king of a 
 drove of wild hosses. The ruunin' we done to- 
 day arter the gray warn't nothin' to what we 
 kalkerlated to do when we left here; an' if he 
 hadn't got into that prairy-dogs' nest, thar's 
 no knowin' how many miles he would a been 
 from here by this time. When I war a young- 
 ster, I went to the Saskatchewan fur the fust 
 time, with a party of six trappers Dick's ole 
 man war one of 'em an', being keerless, like
 
 240 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 all young fellers, I soon made away with one 
 of the best hosses I ever owned. I run him 
 clean blind arter a herd of buffaler. I soon 
 got another, howsomever, but it warn't as good 
 a one as I wanted ; an' I begun to look around 
 to find a critter that suited me. One day I 
 come acrost a drove of wild hosses, an', arter 
 foolin' round them fur a while, I diskivered 
 that they were led by a chestnut-colored critter 
 a purty feller an' I made up my mind that 
 he war just the one I wanted. I had never 
 ketched a wild hoss then, an' I had heered 
 enough about them to know that them kings 
 ar' allers the best animals in the drove, an' 
 that it takes a hoss as is a hoss to keep up with 
 one of 'em. But I could throw the lasso tolible 
 sharp, an' war jest 'bout that age when young- 
 sters think they know more'n anybody else, 
 on 'arth ; so I thought I could ketch him easy. 
 Wai, I dodged round them till I got within 
 'bout half a mile of 'em, and then put out arter 
 the king; but, human natur, how he did run! 
 I follered him 'bout four mile, and then
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 241 
 
 turned t'ward the camp, thinkin' that mebbe 
 thar war a few things I didn't know nothin' at 
 all 'bout. Some days arterward, I seed him 
 ag'in; but he run away from me easy, an' I 
 wont back to the camp to be laughed at fur my 
 trouble. But I knowed that I should have 
 plenty of chances to ketch him afore we 
 started fur hum we war to stay thar till 
 spring so I said nothin', but kept lookin' 
 round, an' every time I seed the chestnut king, 
 me an' him had a race. 
 
 " I got him at last not in the way I ex- 
 pected, howsomever an', to make the story 
 plain, I must tell you what happened 'bout 
 three year afore that. 
 
 " I war born on the banks of the Missouri 
 River, 'bout twenty mile from whar St. 
 Joseph now stands. It war thar my ole man 
 fust larnt me how to handle a rifle an' ride a 
 wild mustang. Thar war a fort 'bout a mile 
 from our cabin, whar the ole man allers went 
 to sell his furs. It warn't no ways safe thar, 
 in them days, fur all that country b'longed to
 
 242 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 the Injuns, who warn't very friendly t'ward 
 white settlers. But, whenever thar war any 
 trouble, we had a safe place to go to, an' onct, 
 when I war only twelve year ole, I stood 'side 
 my ole man, in the fort, an' helped drive off 
 atween four an' five hundred red-skins. I done 
 so well that ole hunters an' trappers slapped 
 me on the back, sayin' that I war a ' chip o' the 
 ole block,' and that Fd be a better Injun- 
 hunter nor my father some day. This pleased 
 my ole man, an' when the Injuns had gone, he 
 took me on a trappin' expedition with him. 
 Thar war four of us, an' we war gone all 
 winter. I ketched my share of the furs, an' 
 killed two grizzly bars, which war something 
 for a chap of my years to brag on. \Val, we 
 reached hum in the spring, an', arter I had 
 stayed at our cabin two or three days, tellin' 
 my mother big stories of wh.at I had seed, an' 
 what I had done, the ole man sent me down to 
 the fort to trade off our spelter. I ought to 
 say that on our way hum we had dodged a 
 large part of Injuns that war on a scalpin' ex-
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 243 
 
 pedition. They had been off a fightin' with an- 
 other tribe, an', havin' got thrashed, they 
 war n't in very good humor. I war afraid they 
 might take it into their heads to visit the coun- 
 try 'round the fort, an' massacree the settlers; 
 but the ole man laughed at me, an' told me to 
 go 'long 'bout my bisness, an' sell them furs. 
 So, as I war sayin', I sot out fur the fort, an', 
 while I war makin' a bargain with the trader, 
 a trapper came in on a hoss that war a'most 
 ready to drop, an' said that the Injuns war 
 strikin' fur the fort. I don't reckon that they 
 intended to come afore night ; but this trapper 
 had got away from 'em, an' knowin' that he 
 would alarm the settlers, the Injuns jest 
 thought they would make a rush, an' massa- 
 cree men, women, an' children, afore they 
 could reach the fort. 
 
 "Wai, I didn'V wait to hear no more; but, 
 grabbin' up my we'pons, started fur hum arter 
 the old folks. Purty quick I heered a firin' an' 
 yellin', an' made up my mind that them as 
 didn't reach the fort in less nor ten niinits
 
 244 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 would be goners, sartin, fur the Injuns war 
 comin', sure enough. A little further on I 
 - met my mother, who told me that the ole man 
 an' a few more of the settlers war fightin' back 
 the Injuns to give the women an' young ones 
 time to git safe under kiver. My mother war 
 a'most too ole to walk so fur, so I took her on 
 my hoss, and carried her t'wards the fort, in- 
 tendin' that as soon as I had seed her safe I 
 would come back arter the ole man. But jest 
 as I reached the fort, I heered a loud yell in' an' 
 whoopin', an', lookin' back, I seed the settlers 
 comin' out of the woods, with the Injuns clost 
 behind 'em. Thar war, as nigh as I could 
 guess, 'bout two hundred red-skins, an' not 
 more'n twenty white fellers; so, in course, 
 thar warn't no 'arthly use to think of fightin' 
 in cl'ar open ground. The settlers war comin' 
 as fast as their bosses could fetch 'em, an' the 
 Injuns war clost arter 'em, intendin' to kill or 
 captur' 'em all afore they could reach the fort. 
 I seed the ole man among the settlers, an' 
 made up my mind that he war safe, fur he rid
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 245 
 
 a good boss, when, all to onct, be dropped his 
 rifle, throwed up his hands, an' fell from his 
 saddle. The settlers kept on; fur, in course, 
 they couldn't help him, an' the ole man tried 
 to foller 'em; but I seed him pulled down an* 
 tomahawked, 'bout two hundred yards from 
 the fort, by a young Injun, whom, from his 
 bar's claws, an' other fixin's, I tuk to be a chief. 
 My ole shootin' iron war good fur that dis- 
 tance, so I drawed up and blazed away. But 
 my hand trembled, an' I seed that Injun make 
 off with the ole man's scalp. That war a long 
 time ago, youngsters ; but I can see that varlet 
 yet, an' hear the yell he gives as he shook the 
 scalp at us in the fort, an' ran back into the 
 woods. Of them twenty men that war in the 
 fight, 'bout a dozen rode safe into the fort. 
 The others war massacreed afore our very eyes, 
 an' we couldn't help 'em. 
 
 " Wai, the Injuns stayed round in the edge 
 of the tim'er fur 'bout two hours, yellin' an* 
 firm' at us; but, knowin' that they could not 
 take the fort fur they tried that twice they
 
 246 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 all set up a yelp an' put off, burnin' everything 
 as they went. It war a sad day fur that settle- 
 ment. Nigh every family war mournin' fur 
 somebody; but I war wusser off nor any of 
 'em. My mother carried a heap of years on her 
 shoulders, an' when she seed the ole man pulled 
 down an' scalped, it gave her a shock she never 
 got over. We buried them both nigh the fort, 
 an' arter stayin' round fur a week or two, I sot 
 out with a party of trappers fur our ole huntin' 
 grounds on the Saskatchewan. I never forgot 
 that young Injun, an' all I keered fur or 
 thought 'bout, war to meet him. I jest knowed 
 that I should find him ag'in some day, an' if I 
 had met him among his tribe, with hundreds of 
 his friends standin' round, I would have 
 knowed him. 
 
 " Wai, as I war sayin', I sot out with this 
 party of trappers, an' it war on the Saskatch- 
 ewan that I fust diskivered this chestnut king 
 that I had made up my mind to have. I fol- 
 lered him a'most all winter, an' the more I 
 seed him run, the more I wanted to ketch him.
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 247 
 
 I 'tended to my shar' of the trapping but every 
 chance I got I war arter them hosses. At last 
 they put off somewhar, an' I never seed >m 
 ag'in. I couldn't think what had 'come on 'em, 
 but I knowed that they had gone clean out of 
 the country, an' that I should have to look fur 
 another hoss, an' give up all hopes of ketchin' 
 the chestnut. 
 
 " When spring opened, an' it come good trav- 
 eling we held a council, an' settled it that we 
 should start fur the fort to onct. We war in a 
 Lurry to get away, too, fur some of our fellers 
 had seen Injun sign 'bout two miles from the 
 camp; so, one mornin' we sot out to gather up 
 our traps. I had 'bout five mile to go to reach 
 my trappin' ground, so I rode off on a gallop. 
 I went along mighty keerless, fur I didn't 
 b'lieve what them fellers had said 'bout seein' 
 Injun sign, but I soon larnt that ole trappers 
 never get fooled 'bout sich things. I hadn't 
 gone more'n a mile from the camp, when, 
 whizz! something whistled by my head, an' 
 went chuck into a tree on the other side of me.
 
 248 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 It war an arrer, an' afore I could look round 
 to see whar it come from, I heered a yell, an' 
 the next minit a boss popped out of the bushes, 
 an' came t'wards me. An Injun war on his 
 back, an' in one hand he carried a long spear, 
 an' with the other he held his bow an' guided 
 his hoss. As soon as he got cl'ar of the bushes, 
 lie p'inted that spear straight at my breast, an' 
 came at me, full jump. I war a youngster 
 then. I hadn't been in as many rough-an'- 
 tumble fights with wild Injuns as I have been 
 since, an' I would have give all the spelter I 
 had trapped that winter if I had been safe in 
 camp. These war the fust thoughts that went 
 through my mind. But arter I had tuk jest 
 one good look at the Injun an' his hoss, I 
 wouldn't have been away from thar fur notliin'. 
 The Injun war the young chief that had rubbed 
 out my ole man, an' the hoss war the chest- 
 nut king the very one I had been try in' to 
 ketch fur a'most a year. So, you see, I had two 
 things to work fur. Fust, I had swore to have 
 .that Injun's scalp; next, I wanted that hoss;
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 249 
 
 an' I made up my mind that I wouldn't leave 
 that ar' place till I had 'em both. The young 
 chief war so clost to me that I didn't have time 
 to shoot, so I sot still in my saddle, an' when 
 I seed the p'int of the spear 'bout two foot 
 from my breast, I stuck out my rifle an' turned 
 the we'pon aside. Then, jest as the Injun war 
 goin' by me, I ketched him by the scalp-lock, 
 quicker nor lightnin', an' pulled him from his 
 boss. My own hoss warn't trained wuth a plug 
 o' tpbacker, an', skeered by the fuss, an' the In- 
 jun's yell in', he give a jump, an' the fust thing 
 I knowed, me an' the young chief war rollin' 
 on the ground together. I've had one or two 
 wild savages by the top-knot since then, but I 
 never got hold of a chap of his size that war 
 so strong an' wiry. When I fust ketched him, 
 I allowed to rub him out easy, fur I war purty 
 good on a rough-an'-tumble, an' it warn't every- 
 body that could take my measure on the 
 ground; but when I ketched that Injun, I 
 found that I had come acrost a varmint. We 
 fell side by side, I all the while hangin' on to
 
 250 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 his liar; but afore I could think whar I war, 
 or what a doin', I found the young chief on 
 top of me; an', both his hands bein' free, he 
 commenced feelin' fur his knife. In course I 
 couldn't allow that, so I ketched one of his 
 arms, which he twisted ont of my grasp, as 
 easy as though I had no strength at all. I 
 tried this two or three times, but flndin' that I 
 couldn't hold him, I fastened on his belt which 
 held the knife, an', with one jerk, tore it loose, 
 an' flung it over my head. The Injun, findin* 
 that his we'pon war gone, whooped an' yelled 
 wusser nor ever. We war on even terms now, 
 fur my knife war under me, an' neither of us 
 could git at it. Then I began tryin' to git him 
 off me; but it war no use, an' the Injun findin' 
 that I breathed hard, held still an' quiet, 
 hopin' that I would soon tire myself out, an' 
 then he would have no trouble in gittin' away 
 from me. But I war layin' my plans all this 
 while, an', watchin' the Injun clost, I ketched 
 him off his guard, an' went to work in 'arnest. 
 By the way that chap kicked an' yelled, I
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 251 
 
 guess he thought I had only been foolin' with 
 him afore, an' the way he did fight warn't a 
 funny thing fur me to think of jest then. But 
 it war no use. I thrashed around till I got 
 hold of my knife, an', in a minit arter that, the 
 young chief had give his last yell. Arter bein' 
 
 sartin that he was done fur, I jumped up an' 
 
 t 
 run t'wards the mustang, which had stood a 
 
 little way off watchin' the fight, as though he 
 war wonderin' who would come out at the top 
 of the heap. I ketched him easy, an' arter 
 takin' the young Injun's top-knot, I picked up 
 his we'pons here's one of 'em, youngsters." 
 
 As the trapper spoke, he drew his hatchet 
 from his belt and handed it to Archie, who sat 
 nearest him. The boys remembered that the 
 first time they met old Bob, they had noticed 
 that his hatchet was different from any they 
 had ever seen. The blade was long and nar- 
 row, and as keen as a razor. The back part 
 of the hatchet was hollow, as was also the 
 handle, and thus the weapon could be made to 
 answer the purpose of a pipe. The handle was
 
 252 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 also ingeniously carved, but was so worn by 
 long and constant usage, that the figures upon 
 it could not be distinguished. The travelers 
 had often noticed that the old trapper was very 
 particular about his " tomahawk," as he in- 
 variably called it ; but now that they knew its 
 history, they did not wonder that he considered 
 it worth preserving. When the boys had ex- 
 amined the weapon to their satisfaction, they 
 returned it to Old Bob, who continued : 
 
 " Wai, arter I had tuk the young chiefs 
 scalp an' we'pons, (I had his knife, too, but I 
 lost that in the Missouri River by bein' upset 
 in a canoe,) I jumped on my new hoss, and 
 rode t'wards the camp, leavin' my ole mustang 
 to go where he pleased. When I reached our 
 fellers, I found 'em all busy packin' up. They 
 had diskivered signs of a large party of In- 
 juns, an' they said that the sooner we got away 
 from thar the better it would be fur us. We 
 traveled all that night an' all the next day, an* 
 got safe off. I had the laugh on my side then, 
 fur 'em fellers all said I couldn't never put a
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 253 
 
 bridle on the chestnut king; an' when I told 
 'em my story 'bout the young chief, you ought 
 to seed them open their eyes. I hadn't been 
 fooled 'bout the good pints of that ar' boss, fur 
 he war a critter that suited me exactly. He 
 carried me safe through many a fight with 
 grizzly bars an' Injuns; but, finally, I lost him 
 but a few miles from whar I fust seed him on 
 the Saskatchewan. I never trapped on that 
 river yet without losin' somethin'. I have lost 
 two chums thar; throwed away four or five 
 winters' work or jest the same as throwed it 
 away, fur all my furs war captur'd by the 
 Injuns, an' thar I lost this hoss."
 
 254 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 OLD BOB'S ADVENTURE. 
 
 THE old trapper paused for a moment to re- 
 fill his pipe, and then continued 
 
 " I went out as usual with a party of trap- 
 pers, fur in them days it warn't no way safe 
 fur a feller to go thar alone. We war a'most 
 sartin to be chased by the Injuns, but them as 
 got away with a hul skin, allers went back as 
 soon as they could make iip a comp'ny, fur it 
 war thar the best trappin' war to be found. 
 
 "If all the red-skins we have rubbed out 
 thar could come to life ag'in, I reckon thar 
 would be lots of 'em, an' if all our poor fellers 
 who have had thar har raised on the plains of 
 that same river, could come back, you'd see a 
 heap of fine trappers. An' if me an' Dick
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 255 
 
 eould have all the furs we have lost thar, I'll 
 allow it would keep us in pipes an' tobacker 
 fur a year or two. In them days, a feller could 
 git a good rifle for a beaver or otter skin, an' 
 a fust rate boss fur two or three mink skins. 
 Our furs war the only thing we had to depend 
 on to buy us a new outfit ; so when we lost all 
 our winter's work, it warn't a thing to laugh 
 at. 
 
 " Wai, as I war sayin', I went out with this 
 party of fellers, an', as usual, not the least bit 
 of Injun sign did we see durin' the winter. As 
 a gen'ral thing the red-skins don't run 'round 
 much in cold weather leastways, they don't 
 go fur from their camps; but by the time the 
 snow is off the ground, they ar' well-nigh out 
 of grub, an' have to start out on their huntin' 
 expeditions. The Saskatchewan war a good 
 place fur them to come to, fur thar war plenty 
 of game; but the country warn't big enough 
 for them an' us ; so when they begun comin' in, 
 it war high time fur us to be goin' out. Thar 
 war five of us in the party, an' as every man
 
 256 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 knowed his own bisness, by the time spring 
 come we had as much spelter as four hosses 
 could pack away. When the snow commenced 
 goin' off, we kept a good lookout fur Injuns 
 fur the trappin' war so fine we didn't w r ant to 
 leave so long as it war safe to stay an', one 
 mornin', as I war com in' in from tendin' to my 
 traps, I seed whar two Injuns had crossed the 
 creek. That war enough fur me, so I put for 
 the camp, but didn't find nobody thar. The 
 fellers war all out tendin' to their bisness; an', 
 in course, I warn't goin' away without 'em ; so 
 I packed up my spelter ready fur the start, 
 and while waitin' fur 'em, kept sharp watch on 
 all sides fur Injuns. 'Bout noon I heered a 
 hoss comin', an', in a few minits, up rid one 
 of our fellers with his huntin' shirt all bloody. 
 As soon as I seed him, I knowed that the game 
 war up. 
 
 " * Bob ! ' says he, * Get away from here to 
 onct. Bill Coffee is done fur (that war his 
 chum), an' you can see how nigh they come to 
 rubbin' me out too. Some varlet sent an arrer
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 257 
 
 clean through my arm. Hand me my pack o' 
 furs, and let's be off to onct, { tell you.' 
 
 " This man Bill Simons his name war 
 war the oldest an' bravest man in our comp'ny, 
 an' he war our leader. Although I didn't like 
 the idee of leavin' them fellers out thar in the 
 woods with them Injuns fur every one of 'em 
 had done me a kindness I knowed I couldn't 
 do them no good by stayin'; fur, when Bill 
 Simons deserted his own brother, thar warn't 
 no use of anybody's tryin' to help him. So I 
 handed Bill his furs, grabbed up my own, 
 jumped on my hoss, an' we started. It war no 
 light load them bosses had to carry, fur our 
 spelter war a'most as heavy as we war. But 
 we couldn't think of leavin' 'em behind with- 
 out makin' one effort to save 'em, fur we had 
 worked hard fur 'em, an' didn't want 'em to 
 fall into the hands of them lazy Injuns. As 
 we rid along, we made up our minds that we 
 would stick together as long as we could, an' 
 that we wouldn't drop our furs as long as we 
 seed the least chance of escapin' with 'em.
 
 258 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 But if we had knowed anything, we would have 
 throwed away them packs to onct, fur hangin' 
 on to 'em so long was jest the very thing that 
 got us ketched. We run our bosses with them 
 heavy loads, till they war clean done out; an' 
 when the Injuns got arter us, they war a'most 
 ready to drop. Wai, as I war sayin', we rid 
 along fur 'bout two mile, keepin' a good look- 
 out on all sides fur Injuns, an', finally, we seed 
 'em behind us. Thar war 'bout twenty of 'em, 
 an' as soon as I sot eyes on 'em, I somehow 
 knowed that we war ketched. 
 
 " l Bob,' said Bill, turnin' to me, l our scalps 
 ar' wuth more nor this spelter. It is time to 
 run in 'arnest now.' 
 
 " He throwed down his pack, as he spoke, 
 an' then his hoss went faster. But I, bein' 
 young an' foolish, didn't like the idee of losin' 
 my winter's work; so I held on to my pack, 
 till, findin' that Bill war leavin' me behind, I 
 throwed it away. Thar war our eight months' 
 wages gone. We had worked hard an' froze 
 among the snows of the mountains fur nothin'.
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 259 
 
 But we hadn't gone fur afore we diskivered 
 that we had oughter throwed 'em away long 
 ago. Both our hosses run as though they had 
 traveled all day, an' it war plain as bar's ears 
 that they couldn't go much further. Every 
 time we looked back we seed that the Injuns 
 war gainin' on us fast, an' the way they yelled 
 told us that they, too, knowed that they would 
 soon have us. I looked t'wards Bill, an' al- 
 though I could read in his face that he knowed 
 we war ketched, he didn't seem the least bit 
 skeary. He had been in jest such scrapes 
 afore. He had often been a pris'ner, but he 
 war strong as a hoss, could run like a skeered 
 deer, an' had allers succeeded in gittin' away 
 from the Injuns at last. I, howsomever, had 
 never been in the hands of the red-skins, but 
 I knowed, from the stories I had often heered, 
 that they didn't treat a feller very kind, an' 
 this set me to thinkin'. The Injuns knowed 
 Bill, an' wouldn't they know me too? The 
 young chief I had rubbed out b'longed to that 
 same tribe, an' wouldn't his friends 'member
 
 260 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 the boss, aii' the knife, an' tomahawk I carried 
 in my belt? I could throw the we'pons away, 
 an', arter think in' a leetle, I did. I unbuckled 
 my belt, an', jest as we went over a swell out 
 of sight of the Injuns, I dropped knife, toma- 
 hawk, an' all, hopin' that the red-skins would 
 never find 'em; fur I knowed that if they 
 thought I had ever rubbed out any of the tribe, 
 I would ketch the wust kind of punishment. 
 
 " Wai, all this while the Injuns had been 
 gainin' on us, fur, the further we went, the 
 slower our bosses run, an' all the whippin' an' 
 poundin' we could do, didn't make them go no 
 faster. They war well-nigh tuckered out. 
 Purty quick, I see Bill turn in his saddle an' 
 draw up his ole shootin' iron. He war bound 
 to die game. I watched the shot, an' couldn't 
 help givin' a yell when I seed one of the var- 
 lets drop from his boss. The Injuns had all 
 this while been ridin' clost together; but 
 findin' that we war goin' to begin shootin', 
 they scattered, an' throwed themselves flat on 
 their bosses' backs, so that we couldn't hit 'em.
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 261 
 
 But we war sartin of our game, no matter how 
 small a mark we had to shoot at, an' when I 
 fired, I seed an Injun an' his boss come to the 
 ground together. By this time, Bill war ready 
 ag'in, an' down come another Injun. 
 
 " If our hosses had only been fresh, we could 
 have picked off the last one of 'em afore they 
 could have ketch ed us. But the varlets kept 
 gamin' all the time, an' purty quick they got 
 nigh enough to use their we'pons, an' the way 
 the arrers whistled 'bout our heads warn't 
 pleasant, now I tell you. But we kept shootin' 
 at 'em as fast as we could load up, bringin' 
 down an Injun at every pop till some chap 
 sent his arrer into my boss's side an' the 
 next minit I war sprawlin' on the ground. 
 Bill kept on, but he hadn't gone fur afore he 
 got an arrer through his neck, which brought 
 him from his saddle, dead. I jest seed this as 
 I war tryin' to get up; for my boss had fell on 
 my leg, an' war holdin' me down. Jest arter 
 Bill fell, the Injuns come up an' I war a pris- 
 'ner. I couldn't tell you how I felt, young-
 
 262 ' Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 sters. I had heered enough to know that much 
 depended on my showin' a bold front; but it 
 takes a man of mighty strong nerve to look a 
 dozen yellin', scowlin' Injuns in the face, with- 
 out onct flinchin'. Howsomever, I kept a 
 leetle courage 'bout me, I guess, fur when one 
 chap jumped, an' drawed his bow with an 
 arrer p'inted straight at my breast, I looked 
 him in the eye without winkin'; an' when an- 
 other ketched me by the har, an' lifted his 
 tomahawk, as if he had a good notion to make 
 an end of me to onct, I stood as still an' quiet 
 as though I didn't see him. Arter this had 
 been goin' on fur a while, the Injuns seemed 
 to grow tired of it, fur my hands war bound 
 behind my back, an' one feller fetched up 
 Bill's hoss, an' war goin' to put me on him, 
 when the critter, bein' clean tired out, give a 
 grunt an' lay right down on the prairy. The 
 Injuns seemed to think the hoss war no 'count, 
 fur they turned him loose, an' I war lifted on to 
 a mustang behind one of the savages. I didn't 
 think much of this at the time, but I arter-
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 263 
 
 ward had reason to be glad that the varlets had 
 left Bill's hoss out thar on "the prairy. 
 
 " It war 'bout five mile to the place whar 
 the Injuns had made their camp, an' while on 
 the way thar I warn't bothered at all, fur they 
 seed that I warn't skeered easy. When we 
 reached the village which must have had nigh 
 two hundred Injuns in it I found that I 
 warn't the only pris'ner, fur thar war Pete 
 Simons, Bill's brother, tied to a post in the 
 middle of the camp, an' he war surrounded by 
 men, women, and young uns, who war beatin' 
 him with sticks, an' tormentin' him every way 
 they knowed how ; but findin' that they couldn't 
 make Pete show fear fur that war something 
 he didn't have in him they left him, when I 
 came up, and pitched into me. I didn't mind 
 'em much, howsomever, although I did wince 
 jest the least bit when one feller struck at me 
 with his tomahawk, and jest grazed my face; 
 but they didn't see it; an' purty quick one big 
 feller ketched me by the har, an', arter drag- 
 gin' me up to the post, tied me with my back
 
 264 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 to Pete's. It then wanted 'bout three hours 
 of sundown, an' the Injuns, arter holdin' a 
 leetle council, made up their minds to have 
 some fun; so they untied me an' Pete, an' led 
 us out on the prairy 'bout three or four hun- 
 dred yards, an' thar left us. We looked back 
 an' seed the Injuns all drawed up in a line, 
 with their we'pons in their hands, an' knowed 
 that the varlets had give us a chance to run 
 for our lives. In course they didn't mean fur 
 us to git away, but they wanted the fun of 
 seein' us run, never dreamin' but some of their 
 fleet braves would ketch us afore we had gone 
 fur. I never looked fur 'em to give us sich a 
 chance fur life as that, an' I made up my mind 
 that I would learn 'em to th\nk twice afore 
 they give a white trapper the free use of his 
 legs ag'in. I a'most knowed I war safe, but I 
 felt shaky 'bout Peter fur the Injuns had shot 
 him with two arrers afore they ketched him, 
 an' he war hurt bad. I didn't think he could 
 run far nor he didn't, neither; fur when we 
 shook hands an' wished each other good luck,
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 265 
 
 \ 
 
 he said to me, ' Bob, I wish I had ray rifle.' 
 He meant bj that, if he had his ole shootin' 
 iron in his hands, he wouldn't die alone; he 
 would have fit the Injuns as long as he could 
 stand. Wai, as I war sayin', we shook hands 
 an' bid each other good-bye, an' jest then I 
 1 jeered a yell. I jumped like a flash of 
 lightnin', an' made t'wards a little belt of 
 tim'er which I could see, 'bout two miles 
 acrost the prairy. I war runnin' fur my life, 
 an' I reckon I made, the best time I knowed 
 how. I soon left poor Pete behind, an', when 
 I had gone about a mile, I heered a yell, that 
 told me as plain as words, that he had been 
 ketched. I never stopped to look back, but 
 kept straight ahead, an' in a few ininits more 
 I war in the woods. The yellin' of the Injuns 
 had been growin' louder an' louder, so I 
 knowed that they were gainin' on me, an' that 
 if I kept on they would soon ketch me; so, as 
 soon as I found myself fair in the tim'er, I 
 turned square off to the right, an' takin' to 
 every log I could find, so as to leave as leetle
 
 266 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 trail as possible fur them to foller, I ran 'bout 
 a hundred yards further, an' then dived into 
 a thick clump of bushes, whar I hid myself in 
 the leaves an' brush. I had kinder bothered 
 the varlets, for a leetle while arter, they came 
 into the woods, an' went on through, as if they 
 thought I had kept on t'wards the prairy. But 
 I knowed that they wouldn't be fooled long; 
 an' when I heered by their yellin' that they 
 had left the woods, I crawled out of the bushes 
 to look up a better hidin'-place. Arter list- 
 enin' an' lookin', to be sartin that thar war no 
 Injuns 'round, I ag'in broke into a run, an' 
 finally found a holler log at the bottom of a 
 gully, whar I thought I had better stop; so I 
 crawled into the log, an' jest then I heered the 
 Injuns coming back. They knowed that I war 
 hid somewhar in the tim'er, an' they all scat- 
 tered through the woods, hopin' to find me 
 afore it 'come dark yellin' all the while, as 
 though they didn't feel very good-natured 
 'bout bein' fooled that ar' way. I knowed that 
 they couldn't foller my trail easy, but thar war
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 267 
 
 so many of 'em, that I war afraid somebody 
 might happen to stumble on my hidin'-place. 
 But they didn't; an' arter awhile it 'come 
 dark, an' the varlets had to give up the search. 
 I waited till everything war still, an' then 
 crawled out of my log, and struck fur the 
 prairy. I warn't green enough to b'lieve that 
 they war all gone, fur I knowed that thar war 
 Injuns layin' 'round in them woods watchin' 
 an' waitin' fur me. In course I didn't want to 
 come acrost none of 'em, fur I had no we'pon, 
 and I would have been ketched sartin ; so I 
 war mighty keerful; an' I b'lieve I war two 
 hours goin' through the hundred yards of 
 woods that lay atween me an' the prairy. 
 When I reached the edge of the tim'er, I broke 
 into a run. If thar war any Injuns 'round, 
 they couldn't see me, fur the night war dark ; 
 an' they couldn't hear me, neither, fur my moc- 
 casins didn't make no noise in the grass. I 
 kept on, at a steady gait, fur 'bout two hours, 
 an' finally reached the place whar I war cap- 
 tur'd. Arter a leetle lookin' and feelin', I
 
 268 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 found my belt and we'pons. I felt a heap bet- 
 ter then, fur I had something to defend my- 
 self with; but still I didn't feel like laughin', 
 fur I war afoot, an', havin' no rifle, I couldn't 
 think how I war to git grub to eat. But I war 
 better off nor while I war a pris'ner 'mong the 
 Injuns; so I knowed I hadn't oughter com- 
 plain. Arter takiii' one look at poor Bill, 
 whom the Injuns, arter havin' scalped, had 
 left whar he had fallen, an' promisin' that 
 every time I seed a Blackfoot Injun I would 
 think of him, I ag'in sot out. Arter I had gone 
 -'bout half a mile further, the moon riz, an', as 
 I war running along, I seed something ahead 
 of me. I stopped to onct, fur I didn't know 
 but it might be a Injun; but another look 
 showed me it war a boss. He war feedin' when 
 he fust seed me, but, when he heered me 
 comin', he looked up, an' give a leetle whinny 
 that made me feel like hollerin'. It war Bill 
 Simon's hoss. How glad I war to see him! 
 An' he must a been glad to see me, too, fur he 
 let me ketch him ; an' when I got on his back,
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 269 
 
 I didn't keer, jest then, fur all the Injuns on 
 the plains. The critter had had a good rest, 
 an', when I spoke to him, he started off just 
 as lively as though he war good fur a hundred 
 mile. Wai, I rid all that night, an' 'arly the 
 next mornin', I found myself nigh a patch of 
 woods whar we allers made our camp when 
 goin' to an' from the Saskatchewan, an' I 
 thought I would stop thar and git a leetle rest, 
 fur I war tired an' hungry. So I rid through 
 the woods, an', when I come in sight o' our ole 
 campin' ground, I seed something that made 
 me feel like hollerin' ag'in; an' I did holler; 
 fur thar war two of our comp'ny the only 
 ones that 'scaped 'sides me jest gettin' ready 
 to start off. They stopped when they seed me 
 an', youngsters, you may be sartin that we 
 war glad to meet each other ag'in. One of 'em 
 war Bill Coffee, who I thought war dead. He 
 war bad hurt, but he got off without losin' his 
 liar, an' he felt mighty jolly over it. Arter 
 they had told me 'bout their fight with the In- 
 juns an' they jest did get away, an' that war
 
 270 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 all I told 'em 'bout Bill Simons bein' killed, 
 and how me an' Pete had run a race with the 
 varlets, an' we all swore that the Blackfeet 
 wouldn't make nothin' by rubbin' out them 
 two fellers. I stayed thar long enough to rest 
 a little an' eat a piece of meat that one of 'em 
 give me, an' then We all sot out fur the fort, 
 which we reached all right. We laid 'round 
 fur 'bout a month, an' then would you b'lieve 
 it? we three fellers made up another com- 
 p'ny, an' put fur the Saskatchewan ag'in. 
 None of us ever forgot our promise, an' every 
 time we drawed a bead on a Blackfoot, we 
 thought of Bill an' Pete Simons."
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 271 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 HOMEWARD BOUND. 
 
 THE travelers remained at the "ole bar's 
 bole " three weeks, instead of one, as they had 
 at first intended. Game of every description 
 was plenty; there were no Indians to trouble 
 them ; in short, they were leading a life that 
 exactly suited the boys, who were in no hurry 
 to resume their journey, which was becoming 
 tiresome to them. Besides, their supply of 
 bacon was exhausted, and the trappers under- 
 took to replenish the commissary. This they 
 did by " jerking " the meat of the buffaloes 
 that had been killed during the hunt in which 
 Frank had taken his involuntary ride. They 
 cut the meat into thin strips, and hung it upon 
 frames to dry the sun and the pure at-
 
 272 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 mospbere of the prairie did the rest. The meat 
 was thoroughly cured without smoke or salt, 
 and although the boys did not relish it as well 
 as the bacon, they still found it very palata- 
 ble. To Dick, it was like meeting with an 
 old friend. He had always been accustomed 
 to jerk buffalo meat, and he ate great 
 quantities of it, to the exclusion of corn-bread 
 and coffee, of which he had become very fond. 
 
 In addition to this, the gray mustang de- 
 manded a large share of their attention. He 
 was very unruly, extremely vicious, and at- 
 tempted to use his teeth or heels upon every- 
 thing that approached him. But these actions 
 did not in the least intimidate Dick, who was 
 a most excellent horseman; and, after several 
 rides over the prairie, coupled with the most 
 severe treatment, he succeeded in subduing the 
 gray, which was turned over to his young mas- 
 ter, with the assurance that he was " a hoss as 
 no sich ole buffaler hunter as Sleepy Sam 
 could run away from.'' 
 
 This declaration was instantly resisted by
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 273 
 
 Archie, who forthwith challenged Frank to a 
 race; but it was not until the latter had fully 
 satisfied himself that the mustang was com- 
 pletely conquered that he accepted the proposi- 
 tion. When he had been robbed of his horse, 
 Frank had lost something that could not 
 again be supplied, and that was his saddle. 
 As for a bridle, he soon found that the trap- 
 per's lasso twisted about the gray's lower jaw, 
 answered admirably; but it was a long time 
 before he could bring himself to believe that 
 his blanket could be made to do duty both as 
 saddle and bed. After a week's practice, how- 
 ever, he began to feel more at home on his new 
 horse; and, one morning, as he rode out with 
 his cousin, he informed him that he was pre- 
 pared for the race. Archie, always ready, at 
 once put Sleepy Sam at the top of his speed; 
 but the gray king had lost none of his light- 
 ness of foot during his captivity, and before 
 they had gone fifty yards he had carried Frank 
 far ahead. Race after race came off that day, 
 and each time Sleepy Sam was sadly beaten.
 
 274 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 Archie was compelled to acknowledge the 
 gray's superiority, and declared that lie 
 wouldn't niind camping with Black Bill him- 
 self if he could be certain of no worse treat- 
 ment than Frank had received, and could gain 
 as good a horse as the gray king by the opera- 
 tion. 
 
 The mustang having been thoroughly broken 
 to saddle, and the travelers supplied with 
 meat, there was nothing now to detain them at 
 the cave. So, one morning Dick harnessed his 
 mules, and they prepared to resume their 
 journey. Before starting, however, the boys 
 explored the " ole bar's hole " for the twentieth 
 time, and as long as they remained in sight, 
 they turned to take a long, lingering look at 
 the place which was now associated with many 
 exciting adventures. 
 
 Instead of traveling back to the road the 
 train had taken, the trapper led them south- 
 ward, and, after a long and tedious journey 
 through the mountains, they reached Bridger's 
 Pass, and a few days afterward they arrived
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 275 
 
 at a fort of the same name. They camped 
 there one night, and then turned their faces 
 toward Salt Lake City, which they reached in 
 safety. Mr. Winters led the way to a hotel, 
 where an excellent dinner was served up for 
 them. After passing more than two months 
 in the saddle, subsisting upon the plainest 
 food, it is no wonder that the boys were glad 
 to find themselves seated at a table once more. 
 Fresh meat and vegetables of all kinds disap- 
 peared before their attacks, and they finally 
 stopped because they were ashamed to eat 
 more. After dinner, being informed by their 
 uncle that they would remain in the city until 
 the following day, in order to give the trappers 
 time to lay in a fresh supply of provisions, the 
 boys started out to see the sights. Evidences 
 of prosperity met their eyes on every side. 
 Some of the buildings were elegant, the streets 
 broad and clean, and filled with vehicles. 
 Wagon trains were constantly coming and go- 
 ing, and the principal business seemed to be to 
 supply these with provisions. Archie thought
 
 276 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 it must be a splendid place to live in, so near 
 good hunting grounds; but he could not help 
 glancing pityingly toward a youth about his 
 own age, whom they met on the street, and 
 wondering " how many mothers that poor fel- 
 low had to boss him around." 
 
 When it began to grow dark they returned 
 to their hotel, where they retired early. They 
 thought they could enjoy a good night's rest 
 in a comfortable bed, but their expectations 
 were not realized. They could not go to sleep. 
 First, they thought the quilts were too heavy, 
 and they kicked them off on the floor. Then 
 the mattress was too soft they could scarcely 
 breathe and after rolling and tossing for half 
 the night, they spread the quilts on the floor, 
 and there slept soundly until morning. 
 
 Their journey through Utah and Nevada 
 into California, was accomplished without in- 
 cident worthy of note. The boys hunted a lit- 
 tle now and then, in company with the trap- 
 pers ; raced their horses every day, and Archie 
 found opportunities to make a collection of
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 277 
 
 relics, that fully reconciled him to the loss of 
 those of which Frank had been robbed the 
 night he camped with the outlaw. There was 
 no lack of fun and excitement, but they had 
 been so long in the saddle that they began to 
 grow weary of their journey, and heartily 
 wished themselves at the end of it. 
 
 In due time they arrived at Sacramento, 
 where was located a large business house in 
 which Mr. Winters was interested. They se- 
 cured rooms at a hotel and the next morning 
 found the boys fresh and eager for the sights 
 of the city. They met uncle James and the 
 trappers at the breakfast table, and the former 
 proceeded to unfold his programme. 
 
 " We shall probably remain in Sacramento 
 two or three weeks," said he, " or, at least un- 
 til I can settle up a few important business 
 matters, and then we'll set out again. Our life 
 in the saddle is over for the present. When 
 we resume our journey we shall travel by stage 
 and steamer." 
 
 " Wai no, I reckon not," said Dick,
 
 2/8 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 quickly, " leastways not me an' my chum, here. 
 I'd a heap sooner foot it." 
 
 " Why, there's no danger," said Archie. 
 
 " Now, you needn't talk, little 'un," replied 
 the trapper, " 'cause it won't do no arthly 
 good, whatsomever. We jest ain't a goin' to 
 do it" 
 
 " Well, then," said Mr. Winters, " suppose 
 you and Bob take the boys' horses and make 
 the journey by land. Our home for the next 
 six or eight months," he added, turning to his 
 nephews, " will be in the southern part of Cali- 
 fornia, sixty miles from San Diego. Dick and 
 Bob have expressed a desire to remain with us 
 until we return to the States, and so I have 
 hired them." 
 
 " What for? " asked Frank. " To hunt and 
 trap for you ? " 
 
 " No, to take care of cattle." 
 
 " An' to keep an eye on you youngsters," 
 chimed in old Bob. " You'll be fightin' 
 grizzly bars, an' gettin' stampeded with buf- 
 faler if you ain't watched mighty close."
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 279 
 
 " But suppose Dick can't find his way to 
 San Diego? " said Archie. 
 
 " You needn't be oneasy," laughed the trap- 
 per. " Mebbe you'd think it queer if I should 
 tell you that me an' ole Bill Lawson have 
 hunted over near every mile of this country. 
 If you live to get to San Diego which I don't 
 much look fur, seein' that you are goin' to 
 travel on one of them steamboats you'll find 
 me an' Bob waitin' fur you." 
 
 This plan having been decided upon, the 
 trappers prepared to start immediately. They 
 did not feel at home in the city, and seemed 
 impatient to get out of it. Dick took leave of 
 the boys as though he never expected to see 
 them again, and then mounted Frank's horse 
 and galloped down the street, leading sleepy 
 Sam by the bridle. 
 
 Frank and Archie remained in Sacramento 
 nearly three weeks. They enjoyed themselves 
 in various ways, but were not sorry when 
 uncle James told them that he was ready to 
 resume the journey. They went by stage to
 
 280 Frank on the Prairie. 
 
 Benecia, and thence by boat to San Francisco. 
 There they remained a few days, to explore 
 the city, and then took passage on board a 
 mail steamer for San Diego. They reached 
 their destination after a pleasant voyage, and 
 almost the first man they saw when they 
 stepped upon the wharf, was Dick Lewis, who 
 seemed immensely relieved to find that they 
 had accomplished their journey in safety. 
 
 The party spent the night at the hotel, and 
 the next morning, bright and early, set out on 
 horseback for Mr. Winters' ranch, where 
 they arrived about supper time. Here the boys 
 again found themselves surrounded by new 
 scenes. In less than half an hour they had 
 made a thorough examination of their new 
 quarters, and come to the conclusion that dur- 
 ing the next six months they were doomed to 
 lead a very dull life. 
 
 " We shall see no fun here," said Archie, as 
 he and his cousin went into the room that had 
 been assigned to them, to get ready for sup- 
 per. " Dick and Bob will be kept busy at-
 
 Frank on the Prairie. 281 
 
 tending to the stock; there are no boys in the 
 country; the nearest house is four miles dis- 
 tant; it is so hot one can scarcely stir out of 
 doors, and we can do nothing but sit and mope 
 in the house." 
 
 These were Archie's first impressions. Be- 
 fore he had been long on the ranch, he dis- 
 covered that life in California was not so dull 
 and uneventful as he had imagined it to be. 
 He had adventures, and more than he wanted ; 
 and what they were shall be told in FRANK 
 
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 The Famous Algcr Books 
 
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 Luke Walton. 
 
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 By 
 
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